


Overflow

by cupofgenmaicha



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: (but I don't want to clog up the tag with a side relationship), Choreographer Hyungwon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love (again), Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Healing From Heartbreak, Idol AU, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Makeup artist Hyunwoo, Manager kihyun, Min and Jooheon are together, OT7, Producer Hoseok, Rapper Changkyun, Rapper Jooheon, Secret Relationship, Sexual Content, Slice of Life, Solo artist Minhyuk, and the idol industry kinda sucks, but they honestly love each other so much, happy ending :), mentions of scandals, please read the notes, recreational alcohol use, relationship scandal, there's angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-02-18 15:48:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 43,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18702676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupofgenmaicha/pseuds/cupofgenmaicha
Summary: Changkyun is one-half of Shadow Crew, South Korea's most popular rap duo; he's on top of his career and has no interest in fucking that up.Then Hyunwoo comes back into his life and makes him question everything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ***Please do not repost my fics! Thank you!***

The two rappers have a routine: after the staff finish with last-minute makeup retouches and the behind the scenes cameras are turned off, they stand with their arms around each other’s shoulders, foreheads pressed together, and close their eyes. Electrifying fan chants, chattering assistants, thoughts of awards and charting, everything falls away to white noise, until it’s only Changkyun and Jooheon—two artists buzzing, hungry for the stage.

_Shadow Crew! Shadow Crew!_ Their fans shout in unison, loud cheers like shots of adrenaline, and the rappers look each other in the eye and nod—they’re ready. Changkyun catches the edge of Jooheon’s smirk and feels something flicker inside himself. They high five and jump up and down, ramping each other up, then run out onto the stage.

Nothing else can compare to the feeling of spitting out lyrics and watching the crowd mouth them right back. No matter how many times Changkyun picks up a microphone, he feels the same rush, the heady thrill a fever under his skin. The rappers play off each other, building the performance to a crescendo, and end each set with harsh breathing, both thrumming with a special kind of energy, a high that only other performers understand.

Music is Changkyun’s lifeblood. His art. As soon as he’s finished writing one song, another one hums under his skin and blossoms into melodies.

Staff scurry backstage, hurrying to mop off the rappers’ sweat-drenched foreheads and hand them water bottles. Changkyun has already guzzled half his bottle by the time Kihyun walks up to them, proffering a company cell phone for them to monitor their performance; they huddle together scrutinizing their every move, always striving for perfection.

Kihyun, in no uncertain terms, is Shadow Crew’s savior. Technically an assistant manager, he shuttles them from schedule to schedule, blocks them from invasive fan interactions, and right now he’s feeding them kimbap.

“Open up, Kyun,” Kihyun coos as he shoves another piece of kimbap into Changkyun’s already full mouth. “As I was saying, we have to move up your comeback schedule to accommodate the KCON Japan special stage in June. So—” he looks at them over the rim of his glasses and grimaces, “—your comeback will be in three weeks.”

Changkyun feels a piece of rice lodge in his throat and he coughs, falling to the carpeted floor dramatically. Staff skirt around him, mindful not to step on his fingers while Kihyun sighs and pets his hair. “I know three weeks isn’t very long, but you’ve had more impossible deadlines.”

True. Changkyun recovers from his coughing fit and nods as he chews on his thumb nail, ignoring the black polish chipping off it. He meets eyes with Jooheon, whose lips are pressed together in a thin line, and raises his eyebrows, silently asking: _ready to own the stage again?_

Jooheon’s frown transforms into a smirk and his eyes glimmer with challenge as he extends a hand to Changkyun to pull him up off the ground.

_Hell yeah. Let’s get to work._

/

Changkyun wakes up disoriented. It takes him a moment to realize that he is in his studio, curled over his keyboard; he blinks—still groggy—and sits up, squinting against the harsh bright light of his computer screen, his unfinished mixtape staring back at him.

_Beep, boop, beep, beep._

_You have entered the wrong password,_ the robotic voice guarding Changkyun’s sanctuary announces.

“Fuckin’ hell.” The intruder’s grumble is muffled by the studio door. “Stop ignoring me, Changkyun. I’m afraid you’re growing mold in there.”

Changkyun yawns and languidly stretches an arm overhead, unbothered. “Are you implying that I’m dirty?”

“Yes,” Jooheon deadpans. “Now open up or I’m going to kick down this door!”

Changkyun rolls his eyes. “You’re the one who sexiled me,” he points out. He can almost hear how hard his best friend is pouting.

“I needed to give Min a warm welcome home to Seoul.”

Reasonable, considering Minhyuk is back in Korea after touring abroad for the last three months. “By being naked for two days?”

“Let hyung make it up to you.” A pause. “How about ramyeon? My treat.”

Tempting on a cold winter night. Changkyun considers it. “Figure out the passcode and maybe I’ll go.”

He hears Jooheon enter in another combination of numbers and he successfully opens the door, strutting in with a triumphant smile on his face.

“How did you—”

“You thought hyung would forget the day we met?” Jooheon scoffs affectionately and plops down into the chair next to him, messy black hair half-hidden by a beanie. “What kind of best friend would that make me?”

Changkyun hums. Maybe their best friend anniversary is too obvious of a passcode.

Fresh out of high school, Changkyun left Gwangju with nothing more than a backpack and a hazy dream. With no connections, little money and no place to call home, he drifted through Seoul searching for an outlet, someplace to pour out all the music playing in his head. Sleeping in jjimjilbangs at night and attending auditions with different entertainment companies during the day, Changkyun took refuge in his lyrics, writing about the hunger in his stomach and the isolation he felt being so young, alone in a city of dizzying light. 

So he took to the darkness, eventually stumbling upon a makeshift stage in Hongdae. Lit only by a solitary streetlight and shrouded in mist, the performer on stage was half-lost in shadows as he growled his lyrics, the rawness in his voice pinning Changkyun in place—and he stared transfixed as something clicked inside him. _This is what he’s meant to do_ , he thought as he watched the rapper leave the stage still breathing hard, running fingers through his unruly orange hair. The crowd of casual listeners dispersed until only Changkyun was left.

With complementary rap styles and easy going personalities, Changkyun and Jooheon became fast friends, forming Shadow Crew, an underground rap duo sharing a common hunger for music; with only a borrowed computer and a second-hand microphone, they recorded in the closet of their cheap, crowded apartment, uploading songs onto SoundCloud. Changkyun found a new family in the underground music scene and a new identity as I.M—and he never had aspirations for more.

Everything changed when the duo signed a contract with Spotlight Entertainment, a small but rapidly growing company; they gave the rappers a chance, a platform that catapulted them into the limelight. But Changkyun has never forgotten the hunger he felt when he first arrived in Seoul or the immense pain that settled deep into his muscles when he was a trainee learning to dance during the day, working a part-time job at Starbucks on the side, then wringing himself dry hunched over a computer through the night, creating music he knew would inevitably be altered to make it more marketable. 

But Changkyun has kept his head down, eyes focused on his dream, and the stars in his eyes have only shone brighter. He and Jooheon have grown together from unknown underground artists to dime-a-dozen trainees to I.M and Joohoney of Shadow Crew—the most famous rap duo in South Korea and throughout Asia.

And he has absolutely no plan to leave the stage.

“You make any progress?” Jooheon asks, eyes flicking down briefly to the notebook open in front of Changkyun, its pages filled with lyrics and melodies, crammed so tightly into the lines and margins that only Changkyun can decipher their meanings.

“A little,” he answers. Jooheon nods in understanding, the two rappers in sync—there is no need to elaborate. “Glad you finally came up for air,” Changkyun teases, “because I’ve been working on the title track. Finally recorded my lyrics.” He saves his progress on the untitled solo song and opens “Can’t Forget You.”

A piano melody filters through the speakers, followed by the first few lines of Jooheon’s intro rap. The rapper closes his eyes, softly rapping along to his own lyrics. Even after all these years, Changkyun is still arrested by his friend’s passion, his unique flow. He’s magnetic—a true artist.

Changkyun’s fingers drum against his thigh along to the beat, and he holds his breath, eyes on Jooheon as his own deep voice begins to scrape through the speakers. While Jooheon immediately embraced the title track, recording his lyrics over a week ago, Changkyun has struggled; the song’s concept hits too close to his heart, dredging up unwanted memories. 

So Changkyun decided to make the song his own.

_Cut you from my mind, why can’t I forget you? Baby, you ruined me, I feel like a fuckin’ fool—_

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jooheon’s eyes snap open and he cuts the audio. “Uh, Changkyun? This is supposed to be a song about first love.”

“It _is_ about first love, hyung,” he explains patiently, a small smile playing on his lips. “You can’t feel true heartache without loving someone first, right?”

“You talk like you’ve been in love,” Jooheon mutters, pressing his lips together in a way that makes his dimples pop. He is adorable even when he’s annoyed. _Cute._ “We agreed that this song would be sweet, like cherry blossoms floating in the breeze or brushing snow off your soulmate’s soft black hair—”

“Hyung,” Changkyun deadpans and raises his pierced eyebrow. “I’m not going to write a love song to my non-existent boyfriend. Let me be a little emo and tortured, okay?”

“You’re going to make Hoseok-hyung cry again,” Jooheon sighs as he shakes his head sadly. “He wants you to find love so badly.”

Hoseok is an executive producer who has taken the two rappers under his wing, selflessly cultivating their composing and producing skills, and steadfastly championing them in their demands for more creative freedom. Changkyun adores Hoseok—a mentor since his trainee days—and he will always be puzzled by the heavy look in the producer’s eyes whenever Changkyun’s lyrics touch upon heartbreak. 

He chuckles, easily picturing Hoseok jutting out his lower lip in a cute pout, wounded by the younger artist’s jaded view on love. 

Jooheon leans over and starts the track from the beginning, both rappers settling back into their seats to take mental notes of modifications they want to make.

“The track is close to being done,” Changkyun murmurs after the song fades out for a second time, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I think we need to overlay some beats between 0:33 and 0:51 and maybe add more piano.” 

He swivels the chair away from the computer screen to look at Jooheon, now serious as he leans forward in the chair staring intently at the screen, eyebrows cinched together in thought.

After a moment, Jooheon hums his agreement, adding, “And a drum beat around 2:10. I’ve been working on one.”

Changkyun isn’t surprised. Apart from Jooheon’s brief reunion with his boyfriend, the two rappers have been working night and day, barely leaving the studio since the moment Kihyun spilled the news about the expedited comeback schedule. At this point, any normal person would crumble under pressure and fatigue, but Changkyun feels the music sing in his blood, revels in the creative energy flowing and thrumming between them, fueling the rappers through long sleepless nights. 

“Do you think it will be finished by Friday?” Changkyun asks, referring to the hard deadline the artists have been given in order for Hoseok to approve the mini-album’s tracks and Hyungwon to develop choreography for the comeback stage.

Jooheon meets his gaze and grins. “Oh, yeah. I can already feel that this comeback is going to be fucking lit. I told Hyungwon-hyung that I want to dance in water this time.”

“And—”

Jooheon shrugs. “He said he’ll meditate on it.”

Changkyun snorts and his stomach lets out a pitiful rumble, reminding him of the ramyeon his hyung promised him. “Want to get something to eat?”

“Yeah.” Jooheon presses his lips together in mild puzzlement. “Are you going out like that?”

Changkyun looks down at his wrinkled grey sweatshirt and equally wrinkled black sweatpants, feeling mildly offended. “What?”

“You look like you haven’t showered in a week. What if a fan sees you?”

Changkyun sniffs himself, shrugs and throws on a beanie and mask.

Two weeks into January and Seoul is slick with ice; the two rappers bundle in thick padded jackets to stay warm as they walk through the wispy snow flurry to the convenience store. Changkyun pulls down his mask to slurp up the hot noodles before they become soggy, eating half the container before Jooheon speaks again. 

“Do you ever think about how we’re expected to write about love but we’re never supposed to experience it?” Jooheon asks quietly, eyes focused on the foggy window in front of them. His phone vibrates again and he frowns down at the screen. “Minhyuk wants to go out for sushi sometime. It should be really simple, but—”

“You would need me to go too,” Changkyun finishes for him, a sigh on his breath. After more than two years, he knows the routine: take a group selca and post it on Instagram, emphasize that the three of them are _best friends_ , then awkwardly trail behind them on their date. He’s seen enough MishMash exposés effectively sink an artist’s career to know how necessary it is to take this precaution.

Minhyuk is a solo artist—a sunbae at their company—and they are explicitly forbidden to date. It is the standard in an industry where one dating rumor can destroy lives. For Jooheon, with his large, honest heart, it was love at first sight; he fought his attraction until he couldn’t contain it any longer.

Changkyun sees the worry lines etched deep between his friend’s eyebrows. He notices his troubled frown every time he’s forced to drop Minhyuk’s hand so that they can walk around in public together without drawing unnecessary attention or outright harassment—how pretending they’re merely platonic eats away at him.

Changkyun has dabbled in his own secret relationships; brief and far from exciting, they always felt more suffocating than the loneliness that preceded them, like the other person sucked away his time, his passion and creative energy. No one penetrated Changkyun’s heart, no one except…

He sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes; it’s been nearly five years and he still feels his stomach flip. His eyes flick down to the tattoo peeking out from his sweatshirt sleeve and everything comes back to him, unbidden: the sea salt on his skin, the sand below his fingertips, the heat radiating from the man sitting next to him. He swallows hard and forces the memory back into the lockbox hidden deep within his chest. 

“I can make an appearance,” he says after a long, distracted pause, mouth already salivating for his favorite food. “As long as hyung pays.”

Jooheon grins and snuggles into his arm. “I love you, Kyun.”

“Love you too, hyung,” he mumbles back, kissing him quickly on the cheek before he hops off the stool. They link their arms together and walk back to the studio, ready to work through the rest of the night.

/

“Fuck,” Kihyun hisses as he scowls down at his phone and types rapid-fire.

Changkyun watches his manager’s incensed face twitch as it’s reflected in the company van’s window and for the thousandth time since debut, he is silently grateful that Kihyun never looks at him that way. The dark city flies past them as they bypass Spotlight Entertainment’s corporate building in Gangnam and drive west to prerecord their Inkigayo stage.

Mellow R&B filters into Changkyun’s ears and he closes his eyes, trying to soak in a few minutes of much-needed rest, but Kihyun continues to let out little noises of distress, hugging his fluffy white poodle backpack—fondly referred to as Chanel—close to his chest. Changkyun ignores him for as long as possible then gives up and shifts around in the seat, trying not to disturb Jooheon, whose head is nuzzled into his shoulder. “What’s going on, hyung?”

“Apparently Spotlight ended the agreement with Blank Canvas and decided to wait and not tell me until this morning—” he laughs, the sound edging on maniacal, and rubs his fingers over his pinched face, silently cussing out the entertainment company’s knack for bad timing. “They’re sending us a new makeup artist they recently hired as part of Minhyuk-ssi’s personal beauty staff. I guess Hoseok-hyung recommended him. Brand new _and_ he won’t even be here until after 7 am!”

If there is anything Kihyun hates more than being left in the dark, it’s inefficiency. Changkyun leans over and pats his manager’s shoulder sympathetically. “Maybe we should get some coffee while we’re waiting,” he suggests smoothly with his most charming smile as he artfully slides his hand from his manager’s shoulder to his precious poodle backpack; sometimes, Changkyun can find snacks hidden in the pockets—comeback diet _forbidden_ snacks that he loves to pilfer.

“No. Only water before the performance,” Kihyun chides as he smacks Changkyun’s hand away, “and don’t touch Chanel. She’s _very_ testy this morning.”

Changkyun juts out his lip in a pout and crosses his arms, staring out the window again.

Even before dawn, there is a crowd waiting for them as they hop out of the van and are ushered to a dedicated press area. The rappers pose for pictures, blinking against the blinding wall of flashing lights, bowing in gratitude as they leave to prepare for a long day of recording.

Kihyun spends the next hour on the phone while the rappers practice their performance in casual clothes, bare-faced and wearing signs around their necks as the stage hands run through cues, finalizing which shots to record. 

“I will gut anyone who slanders my babies,” Kihyun barks into the phone. “Gather evidence. I need their Twitter handles. We’re suing their asses.”

“What’s wrong, hyung?” Jooheon asks with large, worried eyes. There have been so many hateful articles written about them as they’ve climbed their way to the top of the music industry, it really could be anything. Anti-fans’ vitriol is legendary—something Changkyun had only heard about as a trainee, but never thought he would ever experience.

“Some asshat wrote an article about Changkyun being anti-social,” their manager huffs.

Changkyun blinks. “But I am anti-social.”

Kihyun frowns and shoos the rappers away. “Go to wardrobe!”

They are ushered backstage to get dressed. Satin and leather—that’s what they agreed upon with Yoon Bora, the lead stylist.

Changkyun stares at himself in the mirror and furrows his eyebrows. “What’s the stage concept again, hyung?”

“Bad ass muthafuckas in love.”

“Right.” He pokes at his nipple, which is on full display through the slinky red satin shirt. _Not very bad ass_ , he thinks with a frown. He flicks his eyes to Jooheon who is swathed in leather embellished with long, looping silver chains. “Why can’t I wear your outfit?”

Jooheon hugs his outfit protectively and swats away Changkyun’s wandering hand, the leather harness wrapped around his torso squeaking with the movement. “Because I don’t want _my_ nipples to show.”

“Noona?” Changkyun whines, distressed.

“No,” she replies without even looking at him. “I’m not going to change your outfit.”

“Where’s my leather harness and chains?” 

She turns her attention to him and he opens his eyes wide, pleading. “Fine,” she caves immediately and rolls her eyes. “You can wear a jacket too.”

“Thanks, Noona,” he simpers with a wink as she throws him a buttery soft black leather jacket. He hums appreciatively.

Almost immediately, a camera is on him; Changkyun hates recording behind-the-scenes videos, but he knows that it’s expected as an idol. He internally groans and pulls Jooheon to his side, forcing him to suffer alongside him.

After a solid fifteen minutes of talking about comeback prep, they both rub their bellies and whine, “We’re hungry—”

Kihyun glares at them over the camera, shaking his head slowly with narrowed eyes and making slicing motions over his neck.

“—for your love!” they finish in unison as they flash finger hearts and peace signs to the camera. “Please support us during this comeback!”

Changkyun breathes a sigh of relief when Jooheon continues to talk to the camera and he leaves the backroom with Kihyun following behind him. He searches for food, finds out that it won’t arrive until 8 am, and slumps into an unoccupied chair, playing games on his phone as he waits for the makeup artist to arrive. Aegyo is exhausting.

“Hyung? Holy shit! What are you doing here?” Jooheon bellows from the other room, wonder and excitement evident in his voice. Changkyun hears a surprised grunt as Jooheon tackles someone to the ground and he peeks into the adjoining room—fully expecting to find Minhyuk there, armed with bouquets of flowers and unsanctioned cups of coffee. Jooheon is lying on the carpeted floor, limbs tangled as he snuggles his face into the crook of a man’s neck—and the man is most certainly not Minhyuk.

Changkyun is about to scold him when he stops in his tracks. Even though he can’t see his face clearly, the man seems familiar. Kihyun is standing over them, scrolling through a list on his phone—in full manager mode—explaining to the man that he must address Jooheon and Changkyun by their stage names.

“Do not, under any circumstances, ask I.M-ssi to remove his eyebrow ring. He hates that,” Kihyun continues as he blindly yanks Jooheon off the man. “Also, no snuggling, no smoking, no photography, no flirting, no—”

“No bug pranks. Fuckin’ hate bugs,” Jooheon chimes in with a shiver.

Kihyun nods and continues, “No snacking in front of the artists, no—” his voice fades away to the background and Changkyun makes a weird strangled noise in the back of his throat as the man stands to his full height and brushes off his jeans.

“You clearly already know Joohoney, but let me introduce you to our other rapper. I.M—” his manager motions for him to join them, “—this is Son Hyunwoo, your makeup artist, at least for today.”

Changkyun is glued in place as all the breath rushes out of his lungs and his head floods with questions. His chest tightens and his eyes burn as he faces the man who left scars on his heart. 

It has been nearly five years since he’s looked into his eyes. Five years since he’s heard his soft-spoken words or melted into his warm embrace. 

Five years since they recorded late into the night just to hear how their voices blended together in ways their bodies never could. 

Changkyun wonders if he can still dance like he used to. He wonders if Hyunwoo ever thinks about him—if he listens to Changkyun’s music and knows that the lyrics are written to him—or if he even cares.

Hyunwoo is watching him with those dark, thoughtful eyes, and it only makes Changkyun want to reach out and touch him. “Hi, hyung,” he murmurs, as he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets—proud that he sounds relatively calm and unaffected, even as his heart hammers. “It’s been a while.”

Son Hyunwoo—Changkyun’s first love and his only heartbreak—smiles, his whole face softening with unmistakable affection. “It’s nice to see you again, Changkyun-ah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading because I'm really excited to write the rest of this story! Comments, kudos and bookmarks really make my day :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! Thank you so much for your patience and support as I worked on this chapter. I don't know what it was about this specific chapter that tripped me up, but I was really worried about posting it?? So I doubted literally everything that I wrote. Ugh. Anyway, I am definitely not planning to take another 3 months to update.
> 
> Thank you again for the lovely comments on the first chapter!! I really hope you all enjoy this one too :)

Changkyun doesn’t know how long they stand there staring at each other. Assistants scurry around, checking mics and passing out water bottles. He hears Jooheon practicing his raps under his breath, his words rhythmic, perfecting his timing. Kihyun is back on his phone, fingers making clicking noises as he types. All sound, all sensation is pushed to the edges. Blurred until all Changkyun can see is Hyunwoo. 

He will never forget the first time they met. It was the middle of summer and Changkyun’s shirt clung to his skin by a trickle of sweat dripping down his back. He and Jooheon finished signing the contract, entering into a training agreement with the company; they packed their few belongings into backpacks, and were dropped off at the dorms by one of the managers. Cut off from the underground crew and losing all sense of freedom, Changkyun felt disoriented. Most of the trainees greeted the rappers with thinly-veiled contempt; others ignored them, too involved with chasing their own success in the cutthroat entertainment business. Changkyun was used to isolation; he was used to being underestimated. He could deal with that.

With Jooheon by his side, Changkyun didn’t go looking for friendship, but between countless hours of practice and seemingly endless snide comments regarding how unqualified the rapper seemed to be for idol life, there was a veteran trainee. He was sitting on the couch the night Changkyun moved into the dorm, hair damp and messy, and he blinked up sleepily, grinned and offered him a bite of ramyeon. They didn’t talk much that first night, nothing beyond the basics, but eating ramyeon together after the other trainees were in bed became a routine, something Changkyun looked forward to. Over time, they realized that they actually had quite a bit in common. They clicked; it wasn’t immediate and intense like his friendship with Jooheon, not in a _we’re going to take over the world and watch it burn_ kind of way. 

It was a gentle, glowing ember, quiet and comfortable. When he was with Hyunwoo, Changkyun didn’t care whether the world around them burned or not.

Hyunwoo is looking at him now with that familiar kindness, the keen interest that always made Changkyun feel like he was special, and it sends a flare of warmth through his body. He begins to fidget, feeling itchy, like his skin is pulled taut; it’s been years and he shouldn’t still feel anything. He shouldn’t still care.

For five years he’s imagined this moment, their reunion, and everything that he would say. Sometimes, the conversation was angry; other times, he would coolly disregard Hyunwoo as a blip from his past. A youthful yearning that was never meant to be. In none of his fantasy scenarios did he imagine the flood of relief at seeing him again, followed by countless pinpricks of hurt.

Kihyun claps his hands right then and Changkyun flinches at the sharp sound, all ambient noise whooshing back into his ears. 

“Your station is ready now, Hyunwoo-ssi. Please follow me,” Kihyun says as his eyes flick curiously between the two men. Hyunwoo nods his head politely, the movement slow. Dazed. His eyes stay on Changkyun a few moments longer before he finally drags them away.

Changkyun stares at the spot where Hyunwoo was standing, feeling his heart pound in his chest. How is he going to get through the rest of the day?

“Food is here!” one of the assistants announces and Changkyun is grateful for the distraction. The routine. The chance to breathe before having to face him again.

Jooheon sidles up next to him in line as they plate up breakfast, joking about a meme Minhyuk messaged him, but Changkyun’s eyes flit around the room until they land on Hyunwoo’s back.

“Never thought I’d see hyung work in the industry again,” Jooheon murmurs and now they’re both watching as Hyunwoo thoughtfully sets out brushes and color palettes. “Figured that he’d go to business school or something.”

Changkyun cracks a smile; that was an old joke among the trainees, that Hyunwoo looked more like a businessman than an idol. Everyone laughed until they heard him sing.

“Thought you would be jumping all over him,” Jooheon continues with a smile and a teasing poke to Changkyun’s side. “You two were close as trainees.”

Changkyun shrugs as he drags his eyes away from Hyunwoo’s back and he begins to inhale his breakfast. “Just surprised, I guess,” he mutters between bites. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him.”

Jooheon hums. “We should invite him over sometime. Catch up.”

Too soon, Hyunwoo looks over his shoulder and catches Changkyun’s eye, motioning that he’s ready.

He forces out a breath. “Sure. Yeah, let’s invite him over.”

Jooheon practically beams.

Changkyun forces himself to begin moving, his legs feeling like jelly; he is so nervous he has the bizarre urge to break into song. A giggle bubbles into his throat and he swallows it down as he plops into the seat, gaze boldly meeting Hyunwoo’s in the mirror.

Stay professional. They were trainees together, nothing more.

“So,” Hyunwoo begins, the word sighed on an exhale.

“So.” Changkyun fights the urge to fidget in the seat; he shifts his weight and the cheap leather squeaks.

“So,” Hyunwoo repeats and cracks a smile. “I guess I’ll get started.”

He works for a few long minutes, preparing Changkyun’s skin for makeup; the task takes long enough for Changkyun to really look at him. The baby fat from his early twenties has melted away, leaving a sharp jawline, and his shoulders are still wide, filling out his white t-shirt. His skin is still smooth and sun-kissed. Changkyun ignores his lips, and his eyes, and his—

He shifts again; without music or Jooheon to distract him, everything that he’s pushed down over the years begins to well up, swirling under the surface. Changkyun’s skin prickles in the charged silence.

“How have you been, hyung?” he asks to fill the space between them with something other than his own discomfort.

“Fine,” Hyunwoo answers as he begins to brush on foundation; the brush tickles Changkyun’s cheek. Hyunwoo’s eyebrows knit together like they do when he’s thinking. “Finished military service a couple years ago. Honorably discharged.”

It isn’t much information, but Changkyun feels himself lean forward, waiting for more, still thirsty for what they used to have with each other. Hyunwoo falls silent again. The silence between them used to feel so natural, just a part of their relationship. 

Now the silence is thick in the air. Smothering.

_Why did you leave? Why did you leave? WHY DID YOU LEAVE?_

It’s all Changkyun can think about as he sits there forcing himself not to blurt out the only question he wants to ask. 

“Oh, your eyes are still sensitive,” Hyunwoo murmurs almost to himself and it’s only then that Changkyun realizes that he’s blinking rapidly, and tears are beginning to pool in the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah,” he answers wryly. “I’m a nightmare for the makeup artists.”

Hyunwoo changes brushes and the brush strokes are deliberately slower. Gentle. Changkyun’s eyes already feel more comfortable and he eases back into the seat. That’s the thing about Hyunwoo: he cares. In his own sincere, goofy, steadfast way, Hyunwoo has always shown Changkyun how much he cares; whether it was making sure that he never felt hungry or cracking a terrible joke just to see him smile, Hyunwoo was always the bright spot in Changkyun’s day.

That’s why his chest feels so tight right now. Why he aches.

“You’ve always been like that I guess,” Hyunwoo laughs quietly and Changkyun has the overwhelming urge to playfully punch his arm. Like he used to. “Remember when we were trainees?”

Changkyun didn’t understand what true ugliness was until he became a trainee. The other trainees were vicious and the media was relentless. All his flaws—pieces of himself that he never questioned—were scrutinized. Picked apart. Labeled as ugly. Over time, the acne scars from his youth made him not even want to appear in front of a camera. The trainees were dirt poor, indebted to the company, but in order to catch potential fans’ attention, they already needed to look like they were idols.

That’s when Hyunwoo started experimenting with makeup.

“Those brushes were cheap and shitty—but you still let me practice,” Hyunwoo says quietly, his lips tugging up into a smile. He changes brushes again and Changkyun closes his eyes. “I realized that I was okay at it. That I could maybe make a career out of that. So, now I’m here.”

With his eyes closed, Changkyun feels everything. The tickle of the brush gives way to subtler sensations. He smells the minty gum that Hyunwoo is chewing and the very faint tones of his aftershave. Hyunwoo’s fingers graze his cheek every so often. His hands look large and powerful, but he’s always so careful. Gentle. Changkyun would snuggle into him as a trainee just to feel his hands land gently on his back, warming his skin through his shirt. The touch felt so right, like every path he took in life led him to that moment.

But it was always fleeting. Gone in a heartbeat.

“All done.”

Changkyun blinks his eyes open and there is something in Hyunwoo’s gaze that pins him to the seat.

“Changkyun—”

“Makeup looks good,” Changkyun says after a cursory look in the mirror, then he jumps out of the seat. “I have to practice.”

He watches as Hyunwoo’s face falls then becomes a mask again. Neutral and professional. “Good luck with your performance tonight.”

Even after Jooheon playfully pushes him away from the chair and plops down into it, practically giddy to be able to hang out with an old friend, Changkyun can still feel Hyunwoo’s fingers warm on his skin—and he wants to hate the familiarity of his touch. He wants to believe that he never wants to feel it again.

He pops in his AirPods and blasts music until Kihyun signals that it’s time for the show to begin.

/

“Hyung!” Changkyun calls out again as he knocks on the door.

Usually, Hoseok is waiting eagerly for Changkyun to arrive for their weekly workout night together. Music continues to filter through the locked apartment door, almost certainly coming from the speakers lining the living room where the producer has set up his own personal gym. Changkyun gives up knocking and texts him instead.

**< To: Hoseok-hyung>**

_Can I come in? Hoping to work on my arms tonight._

**< From: Hoseok-hyung>**

_Sure! Just a sec!_

The door swings open and the man standing there is most definitely not Hoseok. Nope, it’s Hyunwoo. Naked except for thin black workout shorts slung low around his hips. Golden skin glistening with sweat. Changkyun’s eyes follow a drop of moisture as it meanders over his abs to the trail of hair that disappears under his shorts. 

He almost swallows his tongue.

“Hey, Kyun,” Hyunwoo greets him, his eyebrows raised to his hairline, clearly surprised to see him there.

“Uh. Wow. You—” Changkyun chokes out. All he can think is _holy shit, Hyunwoo is shirtless, and yep, those are his nipples, wow, he has a six pack ohmygod_ —but luckily Hoseok saves him by pouncing on him and pulling him into a sweaty hug. 

“Hey! I guess I didn’t hear you over the music!”

“Yeah,” Changkyun grunts as he slips out of Hoseok’s bear hug; even though his hyung is trying to be gentle, his hugs feel like a vise. He looks from Hoseok to Hyunwoo, then back to Hoseok. “So, uh—” 

“I’m rooming with Hoseok now,” Hyunwoo supplies as he rubs his neck, clearly nervous. “Yeah. Gonna shower now. Minhyuk has a photo shoot, so I’ll be on site for a while. Nice to see you again, Kyun.”

“See you later, hyung,” Changkyun manages to say before Hyunwoo practically jogs to the bathroom.

Hoseok purses his lips together, frowning thoughtfully. “Everything okay with you two?”

“Yeah.” Changkyun shrugs off his concern. “Can you spot me?”

They work out for a while, both more quiet than usual.

“Hyung. Can I ask you something?” Changkyun asks as he stretches his now sore muscles.

“Go ahead,” Hoseok grunts out just before he finishes his last set of push ups.

“Did you lose contact with Hyunwoo-hyung?”

“No,” Hoseok replies with a shake of his head.

Changkyun nods, thinking over his next words carefully. “Do you know if he ever tried to contact any of the trainees after he left?”

Hoseok shrugs and takes his time mopping sweat off his forehead with a towel. “He was told not to.”

“But did he try—”

“How are you feeling about the mixtape? Should we set up a meeting with Manager Kim soon?”

Manager Kim is a retired idol-turned-manager who gleefully wields his power over Spotlight’s artists while he makes high-level management decisions. It is well-known that Kihyun and the other assistant managers despise him. Changkyun groans, not exactly looking forward to that meeting.

There is clearly something Hoseok isn’t telling him about Hyunwoo, but Changkyun goes along with the change in subject; they talk about Changkyun’s music for a little bit while they finish stretching and foam rolling.

Once home, the rapper showers, then flings himself face first onto the bed. He sighs, bone tired, but sleep is just out of reach. He sits up again and his eyes immediately land on the shoebox in the corner of his closet. It’s funny how over the years everything else has upgraded—his clothes, jewelry, apartment, music production equipment—but he still has this beat up shoebox from his underground days. He picks it up and sifts around inside until he finds an old white Samsung cell phone. He stares at the cracked screen, hesitating, then plugs it in to give the battery some juice. It was a stowaway, second-hand and completely against trainee rules. He thought that he was so badass to have snuck it into the dorms.

As the phone screen lights up, his stomach flips and flips again as he begins to look through the pictures still saved in the photo gallery. Even now, when he thinks about his trainee days, all he remembers is marrow-deep exhaustion. But between the blur of grey memories, there’s Hyunwoo, crisp and bright. Happy.

Most of the pictures are aesthetic shots. Some are selfies or taken with Jooheon when they wrote music in the trainee’s communal studio. Then there is a picture of Hyunwoo wearing his signature backwards snapback, his hair an experimental honey brown. Hyunwoo wearing a black face mask and black hat, ready to dance. Then several more of the two of them taking dueling mirror selfies, each one sillier than the last until they’re both grinning. 

Then he finds the picture, the one that makes him ache. 

They are both lying on the wood floor of the dance studio, sweaty and tired from dancing all night. Changkyun is looking into the camera, his smile so blinding that it’s a white flash on the screen—and Hyunwoo is looking at him, grinning until his cheeks bunch up and his eyes scrunch in the corners, his joy incandescent. Palpable.

“Shit,” Changkyun whispers as he clutches the phone in his hand. His throat burns; he squeezes the phone and lifts it above his head, feeling his chest heave. He should destroy it, hurl it at the wall and watch as it shatters into pieces onto the wood floor. Maybe then he could let his heart scab over. Maybe he could finally move on.

He nearly screams in frustration because he just can’t let himself do it. Not tonight. Not until he knows that it’s actually over. So, he carefully turns it off and places it back into the shoebox.

/

The rappers finish their first week of promotions and it is only becoming harder for Changkyun to maintain a cool, professional attitude with Hyunwoo. Over the course of the week, he has slowly become more reliant on listening to music while Hyunwoo does his makeup. Ignoring the tingles he feels every time Hyunwoo’s finger brushes over his skin. Ignoring how much he hopes to feel it again.

After running into Hyunwoo at Hoseok’s apartment, Changkyun has mostly kept to his studio during off-performance hours, finalizing his mixtape. There’s a knock at the door and Changkyun turns his chair away from the computer screen just as Jooheon pops his head in, announcing brightly, “Hyunwoo-hyung is coming over tonight!”

“Okay,” Changkyun replies calmly; he has been anticipating this. Then he takes a good long look at the rapper. “What the hell are you wearing, hyung?”

Jooheon looks down at his outfit. “What? I’ve been taping all day with Minhyuk. We decided that the aesthetic would be retro cool.”

“You look like you work at a hotel, but like 50 years ago.”

Jooheon levels him with a glare. “Interesting, coming from the guy who thinks wearing the same sweatshirt every day for months at a time is completely fine.”

Changkyun grins cheekily. It’s too easy to tease his hyung.

“Anyway, Minhyuk is going to pick up some fried chicken,” Jooheon continues. “You almost done for the night?”

He nods. “I’ll finish this then meet you at home.”

Nervous tickles of anticipation lick up his spine as soon as he toes his shoes off by the apartment shoe rack. He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing in one spot staring at his shoes when he notices Jooheon is right next to him.

Rather than his normal cheerful greeting, Jooheon frowns. “You okay? You seem stressed.”

“I’m—” Changkyun pauses. He almost blurts it all out, he almost admits that he loved Hyunwoo as a trainee and that they almost held hands. He almost divulges that the two of them formed Shadow Dancers together, that _they_ were the anonymous dance crew that went viral five years ago, that after hours of dancing and filming in that cramped studio they almost kissed. He knows that he’s taking too long to answer, so he just shrugs and mumbles, “I’m fine, hyung.”

Jooheon narrows his eyes and looks ready to argue, but luckily Minhyuk arrives with the chicken. “The star has arrived!” he calls out as he closes the door behind him. Dressed in all yellow and with gaudy gold chains around his neck, he looks ridiculous, but in the best possible way.

Changkyun falls over laughing, feeling some of his nerves disappear. Minhyuk jumps on top of him, tickling him just for the hell of it. Then Jooheon joins in—and soon they’re a laughing heap on the floor.

Changkyun instantly sobers when someone knocks on the door, but both Minhyuk and Jooheon scramble up to open the door.

Hyunwoo walks in and greets everyone, bringing cans of beer with him to share. Changkyun flashes a peace sign, feeling his stomach knot and twist.

They cluster around the small table, eating while Minhyuk and Jooheon talk about their newest music video, then Minhyuk begins regaling them with stories from his world tour. “I don’t know which I missed more: Korean food or Honey,” he muses as he chews on another mouthful of fried chicken. “I could video chat with Honey, but I couldn’t taste real Korean food for weeks at a time.”

Jooheon mutters petulantly under his breath until Minhyuk presses kisses to both cheeks.

“Are you two dating?” Hyunwoo blurts, his eyebrows cinched together like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle.

Minhyuk and Jooheon immediately sober and exchange looks. Jooheon nods his head subtly.

“Yeah, we are,” Minhyuk answers slowly after a beat, “but it isn’t known by management. I’m sorry. I should have been more careful.”

Hyunwoo shakes his head. “I understand. I won’t say anything.”

“How about you? Are you dating anyone, hyung?” Jooheon asks with forced levity.

Hyunwoo’s eyes briefly meet Changkyun’s before he answers, “No.”

“Kihyun-hyung seems to like you,” Jooheon teases with a grin. “I could tell on set today. He isn’t exactly subtle.”

Hyunwoo’s eyes grow large and he sits completely still in his seat as Jooheon continues, “You should ask him out.” 

Minhyuk claps his hands excitedly. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Great idea!”

“Ah, I don’t know,” Hyunwoo protests, his ears turning bright red, but Jooheon and Minhyuk are already planning out their first date.

“You’re not idols, so you can go anywhere!”

“You could even go to Seoul Tower—”

“—like they do in the dramas! How romantic—”

“He doesn’t want to ask him out,” Changkyun interjects through gritted teeth, feeling something strange and bitter coat his mouth. 

Jooheon shoots him an odd look, while Minhyuk pouts. “You’re no fun.”

Eventually, they all pile in front of the TV for a movie. Minhyuk and Jooheon snuggle together, wrapped in a blanket on the floor, leaving the couch for Hyunwoo and Changkyun. Hyunwoo sits down first and looks up at him expectantly.

“I can’t do this,” Changkyun whispers under his breath and leaves the room, slipping out onto the balcony.

“Changkyun does that sometimes when he’s working through some potential song lyrics—” Jooheon’s murmur cuts out as Changkyun closes the balcony door behind himself.

The cold winter air cuts through his clothes and hits his skin, almost immediately numbing his body, but even as the air chills his nose, he breathes easier. There is an excellent view of the city from the balcony and it’s high enough to feel relatively private; he would love to be in one spot long enough one day to have plants. Maybe a dog.

_“Why are you leaving, hyung?”_

_“I guess the idol industry isn’t right for me after all.”_

The conversation plays through his head. Even five years later, he remembers clenching his jaw so hard to keep from crying that he thought his teeth would crack. He remembers how Hyunwoo couldn’t look him in the eye; how he couldn’t raise his voice above a pained whisper.

The door slides open behind him, probably Jooheon coming to check on him. 

“I’m fine, hyung.”

“You’re going to freeze out here.” It’s Hyunwoo. He closes the door and leans against the railing, looking out over the cityscape, his elbow almost touching Changkyun’s. “Remember the day you debuted? It was so cold, I thought my fingers would fall off during basic training. As soon as we finished for the day, I nearly sprinted back to the barracks to watch your debut stage. I was so damn proud of you, Changkyun.”

Changkyun feels a surge of anger, dark and hard like a peach pit lodge in his throat. “You could have been there in person if you hadn’t left,” he says acidly.

Hyunwoo flinches next to him and the tense silence that follows seems to drag on for hours. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Yeah, you are.” He hears Hyunwoo hesitate, then turn to go back inside. “Why did you leave, Hyunwoo?” 

The question pushes out of him, his hot breath hitting the frigid air and turning into a thick cloud of smoke. 

“I told you before I left, the idol industry just wasn’t right for me.” Hyunwoo is still turned toward the door, the lines of his muscles stiff, pulled taut—and it only makes Changkyun angrier.

“I know what you told me,” he practically growls, voice low. Angry. “You leave for five years! Five fucking years, Hyunwoo, and come back like it’s nothing.”

Hyunwoo turns around and swallows thickly. Changkyun can hear his throat click.

“How could you just leave when we were, we were—” Changkyun cuts himself off and presses his palms to his eyes. The rapper who spins words for a living somehow at a loss. 

“Just friends,” Hyunwoo finishes quietly, his voice so gentle that Changkyun almost lets the tears scratching his eyes leak out. He almost wants to feel the hot, salty burn as they roll down his cheeks.

“Didn’t this—didn’t I mean anything to you?” He finally locks eyes with Hyunwoo, allowing himself to see the torment in the other man’s eyes. Allowing himself to feel all the sadness, the anguish from the last five years wash through him. Wash through both of them.

Hyunwoo sighs and looks out over the city. “I did try to contact you, but I was denied. A new manager answered your phone when I tried calling it,” his voice begins to shake and he forces out a long breath. “Then you debuted. I didn’t want to be a distraction.”

“That was Kihyun,” Changkyun explains quietly as realization dawns on him. “He started working for the company shortly after you left. He warned me, but let me keep the phone.”

Hyunwoo hums wearily and they look out over the city as it glitters under a moonless night. “I had reasons for leaving, but that didn’t make it any easier.”

Changkyun feels the anger bleed out of him, leaving a seed of understanding. He leans over and rests his head on Hyunwoo’s shoulder, craving his familiar warmth. His safety. He hears a surprised intake of breath, then feels Hyunwoo shift, his hand hovering for a few moments before carefully coming to rest on Changkyun’s side.

/

They slowly grow more comfortable with each other over the next full week of promotions. Unfortunately, Kihyun grows more comfortable too.

“I think they would be cute together, don’t you?” Jooheon elbows Changkyun and grins, jutting his chin in the direction of their manager and Hyunwoo.

“I thought about being an idol, but my body rolls are dangerous. I’ve been told they would cause nosebleeds,” Kihyun simpers as he cocks his head and raises an eyebrow. “Want to test the theory?”

Changkyun feels a pang of _something_ stab his stomach and before Hyunwoo even has the chance to stammer out an answer, he squeezes between the two men and chirps, “I need my eye makeup fixed before the performance. It’s all messed up. See?” He leans in close until Hyunwoo laughs and gestures for him to sit in the chair.

“Your makeup looks perfect to me, Kyun,” Kihyun observes as he narrows his eyes suspiciously. Changkyun winks and blows him a kiss as he plops down into the seat.

Hyunwoo touches his cheek gently so that he faces forward and threads fingers through the short hair at his nape, angling his head up to focus on his eye makeup. They meet eyes for a moment and Changkyun forgets about his upcoming stage. He forgets about his manager and about Jooheon.

His entire body hums.

“All finished, Kyun,” Hyunwoo murmurs but his fingers are still in his hair, warm fingertips pressed into his skin. Changkyun finally allows himself to look at Hyunwoo’s lips and he feels something buzz hot under his skin. 

He tells himself that it’s merely adrenaline that fuels him on stage that night as he pours his heart and soul into his performance, going so hard that he almost feels dizzy off the high.

/

It is the end of promotions and to Changkyun that means two things: video games and food. He’s downright gleeful as he walks through the street food alley, eyes hungrily flicking between charbroiled chicken skewers, sundae and hotteok. Even in the freezing cold, Seoulites are out in groups, laughing and chatting as they munch on hot food.

Changkyun’s mouth waters. Where should he begin? As he ponders his options, his eyes land on a familiar set of wide shoulders at one of the stalls.

“Hey,” Changkyun greets casually, trying not to call too much attention to himself.

Hyunwoo whips his head around. “Can you be out here by yourself?” he asks with comically large, concerned eyes. “Won’t you get mobbed?”

“I have my ways,” Changkyun replies as he bites back a grin. “Greasy food always tastes best after midnight. Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Hoseok is on a health food kick,” he grumbles.

Changkyun hums in understanding. “I feel your pain. Minhyuk-hyung is cooking. Again. The only thing he knows how to make is cream corn.” He shoulders his way up to the counter to order tteokbokki. “This is the sixth night in a row.”

Hyunwoo laughs. “Tteokbokki isn’t too spicy? You used to make me rinse it off for you!”

Changkyun sniffs petulantly, “It’s mild. I’ll be fine.”

“So, you’re finished with promotions now?”

“Yep.”

“I heard Spotlight hired another makeup artist.”

“Oh.” Changkyun feels his stomach drop. He knew this was going to happen, but he was hoping that it wouldn’t be so soon.

“I’m supposed to work full-time for Minhyuk again,” Hyunwoo says, then chews thoughtfully. “But Kihyun called me today and said that I’ve been requested to split my time between Minhyuk and Shadow Crew.”

Changkyun feels a little thrill and munches on another bite of his food. “So, will you be?”

“Yeah. I think so,” he answers as he finishes his tteokbokki, his eyes already landing on Changkyun’s.

“You going to order more, hyung?”

He shakes his head slowly. “I shouldn’t.”

Changkyun hums and stabs another piece, lifting it up to Hyunwoo’s lips as an offering. “You want any?”

“No. I’m fine.” Now he’s pouting, eyes intently watching Changkyun eat another bite.

“You sure?”

“Well, if you insist.” He practically inhales the rest of Changkyun’s food as they reminisce about their trainee days. Jooheon was a rule follower, so it took a lot of prodding to get him to sneak out of the dorm, but Hyunwoo was surprisingly up for nearly anything. They would check out the buskers in Hongdae or walk along the river. It usually ended with them racing up and down the staircases dotting Seoul, playing basketball in the park or going to an arcade, just for fun.

“Remember when you fell that one time?” Changkyun asks with a grimace.

“I couldn’t go to dance practice for a week. The manager-hyungs were so mad.” Hyunwoo laughs humorlessly; it’s a tight sound, like he’s forcing it out of his throat. “I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

They’re interrupted by a small group of fans. Changkyun graciously takes a picture with them and watches as they scamper off, fading into the rest of the crowd, excited and giggly.

“Sorry about that.”

“No problem. I like seeing you have fans and being recognized,” Hyunwoo says earnestly. “You deserve for the whole world to hear your music and know your name, Changkyun-ah.”

Changkyun feels his cheeks heat and lets out a sound of embarrassment as he punches Hyunwoo in the arm. They begin to weave through the crowd and stop at the street corner, right at the point where they would have to split up and go their separate directions.

Changkyun hesitates; he doesn’t want the night to end. “Do you miss dancing, hyung?”

Hyunwoo shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes light up. “A little. Have anything in mind?”

Changkyun pulls up his black face mask and pulls down his black hat so that only his eyes are showing.

Hyunwoo stares at him and Changkyun knows the exact moment the idea clicks. “You want to resurrect Shadow Dancers?”

Shadow Dancers started off as a way to let off some steam as trainees—a way to feel connected to a world outside the idol industry. Together they developed dances to some of their favorite songs, uploaded the videos on YouTube and were absolutely shocked when the videos went viral. Hyungwon would be proud.

“You miss dancing. I miss being anonymous.” Changkyun shrugs. “Let’s see if we still got it.”

Within an hour, they’re in one of Spotlight’s deserted dance studios, standing in front of the mirror, their bodies backlit and dressed in all black. Changkyun starts the music and Hyunwoo begins recording on his phone, then they dance until they collapse onto the floor, their fingers nearly tangling as they carelessly throw their arms overhead.

“That was harder than it used to be,” Hyunwoo laughs between heavy breaths. “I don’t think this video will be going viral.”

Changkyun giggles, feeling light—feeling like the pin pricks in his heart are well on their way to healing. 

“I’m really glad that you’re back, hyung,” he says and he means it.

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you sososo much for reading!! If you feel up to it, please drop me a comment!! They really do mean the world to me!!! I'm always working on more stories, so please keep an eye out for them!
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> ♡ cupofgenmaicha


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! I added a couple tags!! Most of them are for future chapters, but you may want to check them out. And yeah, I upgraded from 'implied sexual content' to legit sexual content, so I guess there's that. It's still not going to be explicit tho because I don't know how to write porn lol. Also, I added another chapter, which is either good news (longer story!!!) or bad news (takes longer to finish), depending on how you look at it.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Changkyun’s pulse thrums in his ears and he rolls his tense shoulders as he waits in Hoseok’s studio for the meeting to begin. Kihyun is sitting next to him, their knees bumping as Changkyun fidgets in his chair, but his manager’s attention remains on his phone as he continues to put out fires.

Hoseok’s studio is different from his own, the room is much larger, brighter and equipped with an expansive physical mixing board to accompany the digital audio workstation. The final version of “Without You”—three minutes and two seconds of Changkyun’s heart and soul—is already on one of the monitors, ready to be played.

Meetings with Manager Kim always make his pulse spike. It isn’t because he lacks confidence in his music; it’s actually quite the opposite, but this song is one of his most raw tracks. The words aren’t packaged in metaphors to make them easier to consume and even though it’s a mixtape, Changkyun knows that it is an undeniable risk to release it. 

And Manager Kim is an infamous sadist who enjoys eviscerating Spotlight’s artists.

He feels a squeeze on his shoulder. “Ready?” Kihyun asks quietly.

He hums, ready to be done with the meeting so he can go back to his own studio; he’s been prolific lately. 

Kihyun’s phone buzzes and he frowns down at it, mumbling, “Hoseok-hyung texted saying that Manager Kim is more of an asshole today than usual. I guess he’s pissed off about something with one of the rookie groups.” He grimaces, groaning, “Great.”

“Well, at least he warned us—” Changkyun sighs then cuts himself off when the door is pulled open and Manager Kim storms into the room.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and classically handsome, Jim "JJ" Kim undoubtedly turns heads when he walks into the room. A retired idol, he grasps onto the last wisps of his fame with white-knuckles, often interjecting himself into younger artists’ interviews and posing for photographs with artists on their own trajectory to fame.

Changkyun and Kihyun rise from their seats to bow their heads in greeting then all four men sit.

“Why am I here?” Manager Kim—better known as his stage name, JJ—asks brusquely, already checking his Rolex; his voice is high-pitched and nasally, and his sunglasses shine under the studio light. Changkyun’s nails dig into his palm and he keeps his eyes on the knobs in front of him, grateful to have Kihyun by his side to act as moderator.

“I.M-ssi is ready to release his mixtape. Hoseok-ssi has already given his final production approval—” they all look to Hoseok, who nods with a small smile, “—and we need you to approve it so we can allocate funds to a music video.”

“Fine,” JJ shrugs, disinterested. “Let’s hear it.”

Changkyun holds his breath as the first notes play through the speakers. He knows every piece of the song, every layer. When he first started working on the track, it sounded angry, like a crackling electrical storm; and over time it’s mellowed into something misty and melancholic, so different from Shadow Crew’s sound. His voice is deep and almost breathy as he raps about love that’s just out of reach. Of loss. Wanting drips from each word, leaving an exquisite ache right under his rib cage.

The song fades out, leaving the room in hushed silence. Changkyun meets eyes with Hoseok who flashes him a proud smile. He feels a quick squeeze on his knee from Kihyun. Changkyun ducks his head to hide his own smile; he knows that this is some of his best work yet.

“Well, that was different,” Manager Kim says blandly and Changkyun’s stomach plummets. “You can’t release this, I.M.”

Changkyun looks to Kihyun, panicked; he opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Kihyun meets eyes with him briefly then repeats calmly, “Hoseok-ssi and I have listened to the mixtape before this meeting and we both already gave our approval.”

“Well,” JJ scoffs, “all artists need _my_ approval and I’m not giving it. This doesn’t sound like Shadow Crew.”

“This is my mixtape,” Changkyun says, voice deathly quiet. “It isn’t related to Shadow Crew.”

JJ barks out a laugh and pretends to wipe tears from his eyes as he continues to snicker. “You are a reflection of the company and of Shadow Crew. _We_ own your brand,” he says then cuts Hoseok with a caustic look. “How could you approve this? You should know better by now.”

Hoseok clenches and unclenches his jaw, but responds carefully, “Without experimentation, artists will stagnate. I feel like this song stays true to who I.M-ssi is as a musician.”

Kihyun interjects to add, “The fans have been waiting a long time for I.M to release his own music. They will probably blame the company if the release is pushed back another six months to a year.”

Manager Kim pauses and purses his lips. “Are you trying to go solo?”

Changkyun flinches. “No. It’s never crossed my mind.”

“Good. It wouldn’t look good for you to think that you know better than company executives, right?” JJ smiles revealing straight white teeth. Changkyun wants to punch him. “Okay,” he continues as he raps his knuckles on the wood desk in front of him, “now that we’ve hashed all this out, I’ll approve the mixtape and give you a very limited amount of staff for a music video. You can show your gratitude now.”

The three men rise and bow their heads, gritting out, “Thank you, sir.”

Once Manager Kim leaves the room, Changkyun’s two years of taekwondo from childhood come back to him full-force and he roundhouse kicks the air in frustration. Despite his love for his fans and the access to industry-standard production equipment, Changkyun sorely misses the creative freedom from the underground scene.

Kihyun is silently seething; Changkyun watches a vein in his temple throb as he clenches his jaw.

“He’s such a condescending asshole,” Hoseok mutters as he places a comforting hand on Changkyun’s shoulder. “Your mixtape is a masterpiece, Kyun. Don’t let him get to you.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s just us,” Kihyun reassures as they meet eyes, “we’re going to film and release this music video and it’s going to be awesome, okay?”

Changkyun looks between Kihyun and Hoseok, and sees the determination in their eyes. He releases a long breath and smiles, feeling shy. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

“Shit,” Kihyun swears as he types on his phone and hurries to gather all his stuff to leave. “Two rookie group members were photographed kissing. The pictures are grainy but they’re spreading like wildfire.”

Changkyun exchanges a look with Hoseok, then begins to trail after his manager.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, Kyun?” Hoseok asks. “I want to get your opinion on something.”

“Sure.” Changkyun plops back into the chair. “What’s up, hyung?”

Hoseok’s eyes are on Kihyun as he leaves the room, then he asks quietly, “Have you ever thought about leaving the company?”

A dangerous shiver runs up the rapper’s spine. “Maybe,” he murmurs, keeping his eyes averted, “but I have two more years left on my contract.”

“Two years,” Hoseok repeats quietly to himself. “Okay.”

/

“Die, muthafucka!” Changkyun cackles maniacally as he stabs an enemy soldier in the back and then nails a headshot on another; he’s so focused on the game that he barely registers his bedroom door flying open.

“Why are you still naked, Kyun?” Jooheon is scowling; Changkyun can tell without even looking at him.

“This is a judgment-free zone, hyung,” Changkyun says as he shoots at another on-screen nemesis. His eyes flick away from the screen; Jooheon looks unimpressed.

“I wonder if Hyunwoo-hyung would feel the same way.”

Now Changkyun’s attention is fully on the rapper. “Hyunwoo-hyung?”

Jooheon nods. “Yeah. He’s in the living room with Min. He’s coming to dinner with us tonight.”

Excitement zings through him and he doesn’t even care when his character cries out in agony and falls to the ground, dead. He forces his voice to sound neutral. “Oh. Why?”

“Min and I feel bad that you always have to third-wheel with us on our dates,” Jooheon says, then he smiles, “ and he’s my favorite person in the entire world. After Min, of course.”

“How about me? I’m your favorite, too,” Changkyun’s voice edges on a whine. “Right, hyung?”

Jooheon shakes his head and laughs, leaving him alone to pout.

He throws on a white t-shirt, green bomber jacket and jeans; his black beanie pushes strands of longish black hair into his eyes. He ignores the way Hyunwoo’s face seems to light up when he joins them in the living room. 

The group piles into a taxi and they head to a favorite ssambap restaurant. Meat pops and sizzles on the grills as they weave through crowds of families and garrulous co-workers to a table in the corner. Soon they are pouring rounds of soju, voices rising over the din of conversation as they talk about everything and nothing. Changkyun expertly grills the pork bulgogi, its scent making his stomach rumble.

Hyunwoo is sitting next to him, his cheeks still pink from the cold and now from the soju. Changkyun steals little glances as Hyunwoo laughs at Minhyuk’s embellished impersonation of Jooheon rapping on stage. If Changkyun weren’t so busy staring at Hyunwoo’s profile, watching his throat bob as he swallows another shot of soju, he would notice that Minhyuk is somehow already well on his way to being drunk.

“Now the beef cookin’ like Gordon Ramsay,” hoots Minhyuk, as he throws a few more pieces of meat onto the grill.

“Those sound like crappy wannabe rap lyrics,” Jooheon snorts and looks at his boyfriend with soft eyes, completely endeared, “and this is pork, babe.”

The men devour an entire platter of pork and order beef kalbi, as well as more lettuce wrap fillings. Hyunwoo drapes his arm over the back of Changkyun’s chair and his finger begins to lazily draw a pattern onto his shoulder, sending warm tingles over his skin. Changkyun glances at Hyunwoo, but he’s engrossed in conversation as the kalbi sizzles on the grill, not even aware that he’s mirroring Minhyuk’s body language. 

As Hyunwoo piles a scoop of rice, meat and ssamjang onto the lettuce, Minhyuk opens his mouth wide like a baby bird. “Feed me.”

Hyunwoo laughs and his eyes crinkle in the corner as he stuffs the lettuce wrap into his friend’s mouth. Jooheon pouts, feeling left out, and Hyunwoo makes him one too.

He turns to look at Changkyun, cheeks still bunched up into a smile. “Do you want one, Kyun?”

“Uh. Sure,” he mumbles, feeling shy. He busies himself with grilling more meat.

Hyunwoo leans into him as he layers kalbi onto the rice, then wraps it all together into a neat little package. “Here you go, baby.”

 _Baby._ The endearment drips down his spine like honey and he shivers. He didn’t know that he was into that. His body pulses and buzzes—then his brain catches up with his body and he begins to panic, making stricken noises as he chokes down the last of the kalbi.

“He acts like he hates being babied but he secretly loves the attention.” Jooheon grins wickedly as he exposes Changkyun. “Right, maknae?”

 _Maknae._ Hyunwoo said maknae, not baby. _They don’t even sound the same_ , Changkyun internally groans as he feels a flush crawl up his neck. He scratches his nape and refuses to look up from the grill.

“Says the man who demands cuddles every day,” Minhyuk quips, eyes shining bright from alcohol and teasing.

Jooheon slowly cranes his neck to look at his boyfriend. “Oh, really. _I_ demand cuddles. You literally cannot sleep without your long ass arms draped all over me.”

“What?” Minhyuk nearly squeaks and they launch into a long, alcohol-fueled, nonsensical argument over big spoons and little spoons.

“Do they do this a lot?” Hyunwoo mutters, leaning in so close that Changkyun can feel his warm breath on his cheek.

“All the time,” he whispers back with a grin. “Usually ends with them being disgustingly cute. Or plain disgusting.”

Hyunwoo chuckles as he makes himself another lettuce wrap; it’s so large and overfilled that when he stuffs it into his mouth, it makes his cheeks puff out like a chipmunk’s. Changkyun pokes his cheek and laughs as he watches his friend struggle to chew and swallow it all. Hyunwoo eats with a singular focus that is frankly quite admirable; his eyebrows cinch together over dark eyes that are already glazed in a satisfied food coma.

“I heard Manager Kim was an asshole to you the other day.” Changkyun raises a surprised eyebrow and Hyunwoo smiles sheepishly. “Hoseok told me.”

Changkyun hums and shrugs, keeping the burden to himself. “Yeah, but the song was approved, so it’s fine.”

Hyunwoo studies him for a few moments, but doesn’t push him for more. He says softly, “If you’re ever not fine, text me and I’ll bring over fried chicken and beer.”

Changkyun pretends to think about it. “It isn’t going to happen unless ice cream is involved.”

Hyunwoo grins. “Okay. Deal.”

Minhyuk begins to belt out a horribly off-key version of “Bohemian Rhapsody” signaling that it’s probably time to leave the restaurant. They take another round of pictures, mostly for themselves, but some to also post on Instagram, and for the first time in a long time, Changkyun doesn’t want to go straight home to play video games. 

So when Jooheon inevitably brings up continuing the evening at the noraebang, Changkyun looks at Hyunwoo and they both say at the same time, “I’m in!”

/

The ocean is a shimmery steel grey under the waning winter sun and Changkyun doesn’t know if he’s ever seen it look so beautiful. Seagulls call in the distance and the wind picks up, driving thousands of icy needles into Changkyun’s skin as he walks to the very edge of the beach, where the water hits the sand. There’s still snow blanketing the small sand dunes and it looks otherworldly as the sun hovers over the horizon.

“The sunset will be filmed next,” Kihyun announces behind him. “Hyunwoo is ready to touch up your makeup. I’m going to talk to the director to make sure that everyone else is ready, too.”

Shooting at sunset is tricky because the light changes so rapidly. Most times there is only one chance to get the shot. If they’re lucky, then they can shoot the scene twice before it’s completely dark.

Changkyun walks over to the abandoned beach shack where they’ve been filming other shots all day. There are cameras, taped down cables and some furniture that they hauled in from Seoul. Dressed in black jeans, a black sweater and a thin jacket, Changkyun has been cold all day, relying on blankets and hot packs between shots.

He doesn’t even realize that he’s shivering until Hyunwoo drapes a wool blanket around his shoulders.   

“Thanks,” Changkyun mumbles into the fabric. It feels skin-warmed and smells like sea salt and Hyunwoo’s aftershave. Changkyun buries deeper into it until only his eyes are showing.

Hyunwoo chuckles as he smooths down Changkyun’s hair. “You look like a burrito.”

“Why the hell are we filming outside in February?” Changkyun complains as his teeth continue to chatter.

“I guess it’s the rapper’s aesthetic or something,” Hyunwoo teases, but his eyes are soft with concern as he tries to heat up Changkyun’s ears with his warm hands. Little flutters like a butterfly’s wings tickle his ribcage the longer Hyunwoo touches him. It only gets worse when he works on his makeup again.

“Please try to relax your face,” Hyunwoo murmurs as he focuses on his work, the attention making Changkyun flush and fidget. Their lips are so close that Changkyun could lean up to kiss him.

 _How can I relax when you’re this close to me?_  

Lyrics from his mixtape run through his head—it is his brain’s automatic stress response—but every word, every melody was written for Hyunwoo. _I want to be the breath by your side,_ he thinks as Hyunwoo dabs on extra powder. They’re all for him.

Hyunwoo glows in the sunlight slanting through the window and this close, Changkyun can see little specks of gold in his eyes, and the tinge of pink on his nose from the cold. Whenever he smiles, his entire face lights up and his eyes scrunch closed, which is endlessly endearing. Changkyun can’t help but smile too, even as his pulse continues to thrash erratically.

Kihyun pops his head into the temporary makeup room. “Two minutes until filming, Kyun.”

Changkyun groans as he steps out of his blanket cocoon. Hyunwoo’s eyes sweep slowly over Changkyun’s face and down his body, taking his time, making Changkyun feel warm and tingly everywhere his eyes touch. “When did you get this?” Hyunwoo asks as he traces a fingertip over the tattoo peeking out from Changkyun’s sweater sleeve; he fights a shiver as his finger brushes over his pulse point.

“A while ago.” _After you left._

“Pretty,” Hyunwoo murmurs, voice low and soft—and this time Changkyun does shiver.

“Did you draw your tattoo?”

Changkyun looks down at the swirling waves inked into his skin. He pulls the sleeve down and nods. “You could tell from that tiny bit?”

“I would know your art anywhere,” he says earnestly.

Changkyun feels the ghost of his touch warming his skin as he steps back onto the sand. Purple paints the sky and he loses himself in the music, in the filming. They nail the scene in one shot, just before the sun falls below the horizon and the first star begins to glitter in the sky.

Hyunwoo has been watching him through the screen all day, but as his eyes land on Changkyun’s approaching form, something flickers over his face. “Wow,” he breathes out, the sound almost reverent.

“I know, I really light up the screen,” Changkyun snarks as he hugs the jacket over his body to warm up.

“Yeah. You do,” he says quietly; his eyebrows knit together and there is a gentle intensity smoldering in his eyes that pins Changkyun in place, making his stomach swoop. Hyunwoo breaks eye contact first and shakes his head, seeming to snap out of it, and then there is a sudden flurry of activity. 

“Where are the goddamn heater pads?” Hyunwoo asks as he touches one of Changkyun’s ears. He sends an assistant off to find them as he blows hot air onto Changkyun’s hands. “You’re still shaking,” he mutters.

“I’m fine, hyung.”

“Come here,” he says as he opens his jacket.

“I’ll be okay, hyung.”

“Just for a minute, Kyun.” 

The heat is immediate and so intense that it almost hurts as it touches his cold skin. Changkyun closes his eyes as Hyunwoo’s body heat seeps into him, and he leans his forehead against Hyunwoo’s shoulder, every nerve in his body alight. Hyunwoo’s arms encircle him, pulling him closer until their bodies are flush together. _Just for a moment_ , he tells himself, _just for a moment he won’t think or question or pull away. Just for a moment, he’ll pretend._

“You are breaking literally every rule that I warned you about on the first day, Hyunwoo-ssi,” Kihyun chides as he walks into the temporary makeup area. They immediately jump away from each other and Changkyun almost doesn’t catch the hot pads being hurled at his head. 

“I’ve watched pretty much all the footage and it looks great, Changkyun. We need to get a few more shots,” Kihyun says, then he turns his attention to Hyunwoo. “Will you be okay working all night?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Kihyun nods. “You have about twenty minutes to kill until the next scene. Then catering should be here with the food.”

The building with all its cracks and gapes in the wood is drafty, cool and damp, so they walk on the deserted stretch of sand under an inky sky glittering with stars.

“At least the moon is out tonight,” Changkyun says as they stand by the water. His hands are shoved into his jacket pockets, but they are tingling from the cold.

“You always did like to look at the moon,” Hyunwoo murmurs as he looks up into the sky. “I’ve missed the ocean. I haven’t been to the beach since—”

“That night,” Changkyun finishes for him.

Technically autumn, that night was an anomaly, one last taste of summer before winter hit. Even as a trainee, Changkyun could work nonstop in the studio, not caring whether it was day or night—but that evening he felt an unshakeable urge to get the hell out of Seoul. He still doesn’t know how Hyunwoo managed it, but he somehow borrowed a car and they drove directionless for a while until they hit the coast.

Sand under his fingertips and salt on his skin, Changkyun felt like he could sit there for hours listening to the waves crash on the shore. Hyunwoo sat silently next to him, his fingers digging into the sand near Changkyun’s, their pinkies almost touching. Then Changkyun began to talk—and it wasn’t about video games or complaining about being overworked and tired—he talked about his family and why he left Gwangju so young and all alone. He talked about his fears, his hopes and his dreams. Everything that he kept so close to his heart poured out of him, laid bare.

And Hyunwoo hooked their pinkies together and listened. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t ask questions. He only looked at him with an unwavering warmth that made Changkyun feel like he would burst into flames.

Then three days later Hyunwoo was gone.

“I’ll never forget that night, Changkyun—”

“Hey! The party has arrived!” Minhyuk bellows as he wedges himself between Hyunwoo and Changkyun.

“Or, at least the coffee has!” beams Jooheon as he hands a cup to Changkyun and another to Hyunwoo.

“Hey,” Changkyun’s eyes are still locked on Hyunwoo and he watches as he struggles to swallow the rest of his words, tuck them away for another time. Changkyun takes a sip of his drink. “I didn’t know you were going to visit me tonight.”

“You thought that we would miss this?” Jooheon raises an eyebrow. “Kihyun-hyung played some of the video for us. I’m proud of you, Kyun.”

Hyunwoo mumbles a quiet ‘thank you’ for the coffee and trudges back to the abandoned shack. Minhyuk trails after him in search of a blanket, leaving the two rappers alone.

“We interrupted something, right?” Jooheon asks bluntly, too intuitive for his own good. “I could feel it.”

Changkyun tries to shrug it off, but Jooheon continues, “I’m starting to wonder if it isn’t Kihyun who has feelings for Hyunwoo.”

“What do you mean?”

Jooheon cocks his head. “You tell me.”

Changkyun releases a long breath, ready to hide the truth like he has for years now. “I don’t know what’s going on with us.” The honesty even surprises him.

Jooheon hums and throws an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him tight. “I’m always here to talk, okay?”

“Thanks.” Changkyun holds out his hand and they do their special handshake that ends in a fist bump.

/

Changkyun shouldn’t feel nervous. He really shouldn’t. Hyunwoo has visited his studio countless times in the past.

 _When they were trainees,_ his brain reminds him. He fidgets in the seat as he stares blankly at the song on screen. He’s been pretending to work pretty much all morning and he hasn’t made one improvement to the song; although, he has made many questionable changes to it. His eyes slide to his phone. Okay, maybe he should cancel.

Just then, there is a knock on the door and it sends Changkyun’s heart rate soaring. _This will be fine_ , he tells himself repeatedly until it’s a nonsensical mash of words: _thiswillbefine._

Then he actually opens the door and his eyes sweep from Hyunwoo’s shoes to the myriad rips in his jeans showing peeks of golden skin, to the casual white t-shirt stretched across his chest,  to his leather jacket. Hyunwoo smiles as he hands him an iced americano—and Changkyun actually chokes. _No, this is not fine at all._

“Thanks for inviting me over,” Hyunwoo says as they settle into the chairs in front of Changkyun’s digital audio workstation. “Wow, so this is your studio.”

Changkyun watches as he looks around the room, awe written plainly all over his face.

“Do you want me to show you the equipment? It’s changed a lot since we were trainees.”

He chooses one of his unfinished songs and shows Hyunwoo how to layer beats and instrumentals. Changkyun doesn’t even realize how long he’s been talking until he stops to take another sip of his drink; the cup leaves a circle of condensation on the desk. His fingers lazily tap on his notebook, where he still writes the majority of his rough, unpolished lyrics—the words raw, often popping into his head randomly throughout the day.

Hyunwoo listens intently as Changkyun explains how he creates his art—how he starts with a beat or an idea, then slowly molds it into a song worth releasing.

“Do you ever write songs that you don’t release?”

Changkyun’s eyes slide to the folder on the monitor that contains dozens of songs that he will never release; some he wrote to experiment with his sound, while others explore whatever emotion he’s feeling that day.

“All the time,” he answers. “I never released any of the songs we wrote together.”

“Do you still have them?”

Changkyun hums and clicks on another folder. “Do you want to hear any of them?”

“Not yet,” he answers with a small, sad smile that makes Changkyun’s chest tight, so he clicks on another file and blasts some of his previously released music over the studio speakers. He’s caught somewhere between shocked and elated when Hyunwoo raps along.

Changkyun chooses progressively harder, faster songs and they battle each other, rapping the lyrics back and forth until Hyunwoo messes up. He falls back into his chair, and kicks his feet, pretending to be upset, but he’s smiling.

“Well, it seems like you know these songs pretty well.”

Hyunwoo nods. “Whenever I missed yo—uh, I mean, whenever I missed civilian life in the military, I would listen to your, err, Shadow Crew’s music.”

Even with Hyunwoo stumbling over his words, Changkyun thinks that he understands. “Do you want to hear some of the unfinished stuff I’ve been working on?” he asks quietly.

What he’s really asking is: do you want to see the pieces of my heart? Do you want to see all the naked beauty and ugliness hidden there?

Hyunwoo nods earnestly and Changkyun chooses songs that bring tears to his eyes; songs that hurt and songs that heal. Most of them only have a beat recorded and he closes his eyes, rapping over the music. He doesn’t know why he wants Hyunwoo to listen, he doesn’t know why he’s showing him an unguarded view of his heart, but as Changkyun continues to rap, his eyes screwed tight with passion, Hyunwoo listens.

He listens as it all pours out of him: the loneliness that he’s felt. The loss. The hardship and heartache for his dream. The love that is right in front of him but just out of reach.

He opens his eyes and catches Hyunwoo’s gaze on him; Changkyun feels like Hyunwoo sees him. Sees through him. Each song bringing him closer to understanding him.

As one song fades out, Hyunwoo doesn’t push for another; he accepts what Changkyun gives him with large gentle hands and an even larger heart.

Silence follows the last song and Hyunwoo looks at him with wonder and something else—something tender that makes Changkyun’s breath catch in his throat. 

“Was it too much?” Changkyun finally asks because the silence is too much. “Manager Kim says—”

“That was beautiful, Changkyun.”

Changkyun feels his cheeks burn and he shrugs, searching for something to say to ease the intimacy of the moment—to ease the tension he feels building inside himself. “Ah, well, I’m nothing like Jooheon. You’ve seen him rap. I have a lot to learn.”

Hyunwoo is quiet for a long moment, face open and contemplative. “I love Jooheon. He’s like a brother to me,” he says, his voice velvety soft as their eyes meet. “But there is something about you, Kyun.”

Hyunwoo reaches out and hesitates, his hand so close to Changkyun’s that he forgets how to breathe for a moment. Then he brushes his thumb over Changkyun’s knuckles, the touch so fleeting that Changkyun could fool himself into believing that it never happened at all.

But he felt it. 

“You light up the stage, Changkyun-ah,” he continues as he looks at Changkyun like he hangs the stars in the sky. “When you’re up there, I can’t take my eyes off you.”

He feels that same flutter he felt years ago. _I could fall in love with you_ , he thinks. He probably never fell out of love with him.

“Wow,” he says lamely, but his voice sounds thick. He clears his throat, searching for something else to focus on. “Uh, now it’s your turn.”

“What?” Hyunwoo blinks. “To sing?”

Changkyun nods, then a thought occurs to him. “Do you still sing?”

“Sometimes in the shower,” he answers with a sharp, bittersweet laugh.

 _I want to hear you sing again, hyung_ , he thinks, but doesn’t push it any further, instead he brings up a much safer topic: food.

After ordering in Thai food, they chill for a while, talking and listening to music until Hyunwoo needs to leave to be on-set for Minhyuk’s music video shooting.

As soon as the studio door clicks shut, everything that Changkyun had been holding tightly inside himself begins to unravel—words and melodies leak out of him, bleeding onto notebook pages, words crammed together in tight handwriting, overflowing into the margins.

Lyrics come to him, pour out of him, raw and unfiltered—like the best kind of music.

Changkyun stares down at the reams of pages now filled with the broken pieces of himself and he laughs, the sound edging on a sob. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, hyung,” he blurts as soon as his best friend answers the phone.

“Want to get some beer?” Jooheon asks without hesitation.

“Soju,” Changkyun says as he rubs his temples. “It’s more of a soju night.”

“Okay, Kyun.” Jooheon laughs, the sound comforting, like sipping a cup of warm tea. Changkyun already feels better. “Let’s go grab some soju.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want them to kiss already :(
> 
> As always, thank you sososo much for reading!! If you feel up to it, please drop me a comment!! They really do mean the world to me!!!
> 
> For anyone wondering about the next Vertigo (showho) update, I am still working on it, but it's not my priority right now. I want to finish this fic as well as the MX Fic Fest story first, then I'll shift my focus back to wrapping up Vertigo.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> ♡ cupofgenmaicha


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Thank you for your patience as I wrote this chapter! I hope you enjoy!

Changkyun wakes up to an elbow aimed at his eye; he croaks out a groan, wipes at the saliva drying on his chin, and shuts his eyes against the early morning light. Yawning, he rolls and falls off the bed into a tangled heap on the floor, accidentally whacking his elbow on Jooheon’s bookshelf. Everything hurts. Nausea sloshes in his stomach as he stumbles through the apartment to the bathroom. He feels better once he strips out of yesterday’s clothes and steps into the stream of hot water, releasing the grip of the soju from the previous night.

One bottle of soju turned into two, and by the third bottle, everything spilled out of him: his crush on Hyunwoo and how he was planning to confess. The devastation he felt when Hyunwoo left the training program. Jooheon shook his head, sighing, upset with himself for never asking questions, never suspecting that there was something deeper going on.

“I always thought you were withdrawn around debut because of the stress of it all,” Jooheon said as he stared down the empty shot glass he was rolling between his fingers. His cheeks were pink from the alcohol and the warm, crowded tent. He shifted on the hard plastic stool and looked at Changkyun with guilty eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Changkyun shook his head. “I wasn’t ready to talk about it.”

They wound up singing loudly in the taxi and falling asleep as a tangle of limbs on Jooheon’s bed. Even though he woke up a bloodshot, hungover mess, Changkyun can’t deny that he feels better, even if it was an objectively poor decision to make the night before dance practice. 

“Honey,” Changkyun mumbles as he shakes the sleeping rapper’s shoulder; his friend’s fluffy mess of hair bounces with the movement. “Kihyun-hyung will be here soon with the van. You should probably get up.”

Jooheon groans as he sits up, his eyes still squeezed closed and his cheek red from being mashed into the pillow. “Do we have a schedule today?” he asks between long yawns, his voice rough with sleep.

“Hyungwon-hyung is teaching us the choreo for KCON Japan’s special stage.”

This year KCON will be hosting a special outdoor stage in the afternoon on the first day of the music festival in addition to the indoor concert the next day. Changkyun and Jooheon have already remixed some of their recent releases for the event, and the rappers are looking forward to putting on a fun performance, with water guns to keep everyone cool in the hot and humid early summer weather. 

It takes Changkyun a minute to realize that the loud pounding he’s hearing is coming from the front door and not from the headache throbbing in his temple. Jooheon’s eyes pop open, wide with panic, and he scrambles out of bed into the bathroom, leaving Changkyun to face their manager alone.

“Hey, hyung,” he greets Kihyun casually as he opens the door with a disarming grin, silently praying that the manager is distracted by one of Spotlight’s other artists.

“Oh my god. You are fucking hungover. That’s just great,” Kihyun observes with a flat glare. He pushes past the rapper and toes off his shoes, making a beeline for the kitchen. Changkyun follows behind him feeling like a chastised puppy.

“Hyung—”

“Nope. I don’t want to hear it,” Kihyun calls over his shoulder as he pulls cabbage, veggies and meat from the fridge. “I’m making hangover soup. Brush your hair and try to look like you didn’t drink half your body weight in soju last night, okay?”

Changkyun joins Jooheon in the bathroom.

“Is he pissed?” Jooheon asks as he pats dry his face.

“Nah,” he says as he combs fingers through his damp hair. “He’s in manager-mode. Honestly, I think we made his day.”

Soon enough the rappers follow the hearty soup’s rich aroma to the kitchen and Kihyun practically spoon feeds them until their hangovers have substantially subsided. Changkyun pats his stomach, feeling much better.

“Today is going to be a long day,” Kihyun informs them as they drive through Seoul traffic to the dance studio. “You have to learn the choreo for not only your special stage but also the main stage event.”

After a quick stop at a coffee shop for iced americanos, the rappers arrive at Spotlight’s building focused and ready to work. Music filters out of the dance practice rooms lining the hallway; through the windows, Changkyun can see rookie groups practicing their comeback stages. He remembers the days when he practiced so relentlessly that the dance floor would become slippery with sweat.

Curiously, the main dance studio is dark. Odd. Normally, Hyungwon would be in the room already practicing pieces of choreo, perfecting it so that he can teach the artists.

That’s when Changkyun notices the candles dotting the room and the choreographer slumped over onto the wooden floor, his meditation cushion askew, kicked out of the way as he snores lightly. The rappers tiptoe into the room and hear a meditation track playing over the speakers. _Now continue to visualize your goal. Focus on that image as you breathe deeply in, then exhale out—_

“Cute,” Jooheon coos quietly as he pats the sleeping choreographer’s head. “He looks like a baby.” 

Changkyun stifles a snort as he places the iced americano down on the cushion, a humble offering to a dance god, and they tiptoe back out.

Not more than two minutes later, Hyungwon saunters out of the studio, sipping his coffee, his long wavy hair pulled back out of his eyes. “‘Sup?” he greets as he leans against the doorway. “Spent my break meditating, visualizing dance moves. I should get a raise for how dedicated I am.”

The rappers exchange looks and Changkyun coughs, trying to clear the laughter from his throat. “Whatever you say, hyung.”

“So, do you have a vision for this performance? Same stuff you normally do?” the choreographer asks as he jumps up and down, his movements sweeping and bold. Shadow Crew’s signature choreography.

“Actually,” Changkyun says after brief eye contact with the other rapper, “we were thinking of trying something different this year. Make it sexy.”

Hyungwon freezes in place and clasps his hands together under his chin. “Sexy,” he whispers, his eyes wide and shining. “I have been waiting _years_ for this moment.”

Shadow Crew’s remix begins to blast through the speakers and they watch with a mix of amusement and admiration as Hyungwon pieces together a new choreo. The way he dances is undeniably sexy, his limbs long and movements fluid. Little wavy wisps of black hair fall into his eyes and plaster to his damp forehead as he continues to perfect the movements. Hyungwon dances effortlessly, his footwork so light and airy it’s as if he were born to walk on clouds. Changkyun really admires him not only as a dancer but also as a friend.

“How about something like that?” he asks as he wipes his forehead with his t-shirt.

Changkyun can picture the performance, how their bodies will move as they rap; he can almost hear the crowd roaring when they rip off their jackets and throw them to the side of the stage, their thin shirts underneath soaked and sticking to their bodies.

“Hell yes, hyung,” he answers, excited to experiment and show their fans something new. “How did you do that first move?”

Halfway through their practice, just as they are getting down the moves, Kihyun runs into the dance studio with excitement glittering in his eyes. “Good news, good news!”

Hyungwon cuts the music and the rappers slump onto the floor, both breathing hard.

“Okay. I have good news and even better news!” their manager announces once he has their attention.

“What is it, hyung?” Jooheon asks after a long sip of water, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “You never have good news.”

“The good news is that you have a new sponsorship!”

“Oh, awesome!” they exclaim in unison as they high-five.

“The even better news is that the company is sponsoring your stage outfits for KCON Japan!”

Now it’s Changkyun who is suspicious. “What kind of outfits?”

“School uniforms from their upcoming fall collection!” Kihyun exclaims as he bounces on the balls of his feet, practically glowing. “They envision a cute, innocent stage with lots of aegyo. Oh and don’t forget to smile!”

The manager waves off their loud groans of protest and leaves the room just as Hyungwon dramatically falls to his knees, looking like his soul has left his body.

/

“It took us twenty minutes and another iced americano to get Hyungwon to start functioning again,” Changkyun divulges, ignoring the small ripple of pleasure he feels when Hyunwoo starts laughing. They’ve just finished eating and are walking back to Changkyun’s apartment. It’s not very often that Changkyun walks around the city without his manager or another staff member near him, and even with fans taking videos of him on their phones every other block, he quite enjoys the freedom. Seoul is in full bloom now, with pink azaleas, white magnolias and yellow forsythias dotting the neighborhood, their colors intense and stunning against the city’s ubiquitous grey. “It’s actually in the contract that I have to make a minimum of three finger hearts.”

Hyunwoo laughs again, loud and bright, his pretty brown eyes crinkling in the corners.

“It’s not that funny, hyung,” Changkyun pouts as he pushes his friend’s shoulder.

“You’re right,” he concedes as he clears his throat, but he’s still smiling. “I can’t wait to see your performance though.”

Changkyun perks up. “Are you going to be there?”

Hyunwoo hums. “Yeah. Kihyun told me this morning that I was approved for the traveling beauty and wardrobe crew. Minhyuk will be staying in Japan for a few extra weeks after KCON and he requested me,” he explains. “I have to get a passport and everything.”

“Have you ever been to Tokyo?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I haven’t been able to travel much.”

“I’ll have to show you around the city,” Changkyun offers casually. “I know the area pretty well.”

“I’d like that,” Hyunwoo says with a soft smile. Changkyun hadn’t even realized that they were stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, smiling at each other—lost in their own world as other Seoulites continue to bustle around them—until an old lady staring down at her phone walks straight into him, only glancing up briefly to glower at him before continuing down the street. Changkyun internally groans; Jooheon can never find out about this or he will be teased mercilessly for _weeks_.

Changkyun was so busy smiling like an idiot that he also hadn’t noticed the darkening clouds nor the initial drops of water splattering onto his shoulders, harbingers of an approaching spring storm. 

Mere blocks away from his apartment, the sky opens up and pelts them with rain. They scramble underneath an awning, already half-soaked. Hyunwoo’s hair is plastered to his forehead and little drops of water cling to his lashes as he watches the rain soak the concrete, creating little rivers in the street. Hyunwoo runs absent-minded fingers through his hair, making it stick up in random places. For a moment, Changkyun forgets that there always seem to be eyes on him. For a moment, he hooks their pinkies together as the rain continues to pelt the awning above their heads.

He can’t hear anything over the roar of his heartbeat; he doesn’t even know if he’s still breathing, all he can feel is Hyunwoo’s pinky wrapped around his own. All he wants is to feel more.

“The rain stopped,” Hyunwoo says quietly.

“Oh.” Changkyun blinks and drops his hand. “I guess we should head to my place and change.”

Once they reach the apartment, they towel off and change into sweatpants and old t-shirts; they’re too small for Hyunwoo, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he eases onto the sofa.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Changkyun offers. “Tea?”

“Please.”

Changkyun waits for the water to boil, giving himself a minute to calm the fuck down. When his heart rate is back to normal, he brings out two steaming mugs and they sit on either end of the couch as he flips through the movies on Netflix. He settles on a horror movie that Jooheon had mentioned watching with Minhyuk. Jooheon swore it gave him nightmares for days and told Changkyun not to watch it, but it winds up being pretty lame. Bored, they resort to trying to scare each other, both pointing accusing fingers, convinced that the other one flinched. 

They turn the movie off and switch over to one of Minhyuk’s favorite ongoing dramas. Changkyun doesn’t even realize how close they are sitting until Hyunwoo shifts and raises his arm, a question in his eyes.

Changkyun hesitates only briefly before he settles against him. “I’ve missed this,” he breathes out when Hyunwoo’s arm wraps around his torso, his palm finding the jut of Changkyun’s hip. Everything about Hyunwoo is warm and familiar, from the rumble of his laughter to the heat of his skin; their bodies seem to fit together, contoured to erase the need for space between them.

“Me too,” Hyunwoo murmurs into his hair, and Changkyun ignores how his lips seem to linger there, not quite brushing his temple.

/

“I have nothing to wear,” Jooheon mutters as he runs frantic fingers through his hair, staring into his empty closet. His teeth catch on his bottom lip again, chewing so hard that it looks ready to bleed as he picks up, analyzes, then ultimately throws another shirt into the heaping pile at his feet.

“Calm down, Honey. You look great in everything,” Minhyuk soothes as he picks out a simple black t-shirt and jeans for the rapper to wear that not so subtly match his own outfit. “Let’s shop in Tokyo. I want to spoil my baby—” 

Changkyun leaves the room, not in the mood to throw up in his mouth so early in the morning. He’s never cared that much about brands or labels; he wears whatever is comfortable and smells relatively clean. Today it’s a neon green shirt and ripped jeans; his tattoo is mostly visible underneath the thin fabric, dark blue waves swirling over his skin and sweeping up his forearm to his elbow.

“Your shirt is on backwards,” Kihyun comments as he goes back to typing something on his phone.

“I’m a trendsetter, hyung,” he says with a shrug, cackling when his manager scoffs and raises an annoyed eyebrow.

Jooheon finally emerges, dressed and smiling in a way that Changkyun doesn’t want to think about too much, and the group leaves for the airport.

Bright flashes of light nearly blind Changkyun as soon as he steps out of the van. He pulls his hat down over his eyes to cut down on the glare and he waves to the crowd. Music helps him stay sane as the group is escorted through a tunnel of grabbing hands into the airport. Kihyun and the hired bodyguards keep them moving, intervening when over-excited fans try to break through the barriers to touch them. 

Changkyun tries to maintain a calm, unbothered facade so Kihyun has less to worry about, but as someone in the crowd grabs his wrist, a shard of panic lodges in his throat.

Time freezes for a long moment then the touch is gone and he’s moving again. There is a familiar, protective arm wrapped around his shoulders and it takes him several heartbeats to start breathing normally.

“Thanks,” he murmurs as he looks up into concerned brown eyes.

“No problem,” Hyunwoo says, his eyes flicking down to Changkyun’s wrist. “Are you okay? They grabbed you pretty hard.”

Changkyun rubs his wrist, still feeling the fingers digging into his skin. “I’m fine,” he reassures.

Hyunwoo doesn’t look convinced.

The lounge is thankfully quiet and unoccupied when the glass door slides open, and Changkyun claims a chair in the corner, sinking into it to decompress until the flight to Japan. 

“Let me take a look,” Hyunwoo offers softly as he sits next to him.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Changkyun mumbles but extends his hand anyway, watching as Hyunwoo touches his wrist with gentle fingers, moving it carefully to check for range of motion.

“Are you sure you don’t want ice?” 

“Hyung,” he practically whines, “stop babying me. I’m fine.”

Changkyun hears Hyunwoo quietly mutter, _damn he’s stubborn_ , as he turns around in the chair and pulls out his phone. Now that Hyunwoo’s attention is off him, Changkyun can take a long look at him. Hyunwoo is dressed casually in jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, and his hair is lighter now, the honey brown strands hanging into his pretty eyes. It’s been a couple weeks since they’ve seen each other—the rapper has been locked in the studio while Hyunwoo attended print ad campaigns with Minhyuk—and Changkyun can’t help but openly stare at him. 

“You should probably keep your heart eyes under wraps, Kyun. It’s getting a little out of control.”

Changkyun’s heart seizes. He whips around and finds Jooheon crouching next to him, not even trying to hide his shit-eating grin. Changkyun’s eyes slide to Hyunwoo, but he’s thankfully still staring at his phone, eyebrows knitted in concentration, perfectly oblivious. He whacks his friend on the arm, hissing, “It’s a fucking secret, remember?”

“Not when it’s written all over your face,” he counters, still grinning as he leaves the lounge with Minhyuk, presumably to get coffee.

Changkyun groans and pulls out his laptop, hoping that work will distract him enough so he doesn’t get caught staring again. It doesn’t take him long to sink into his work, music pushing everything else to the periphery. He’s always experimenting with sound; sometimes a melody plays through his head, the entire beat unraveling like a ribbon; other times, only words will come to him, bits of lyrics without music.

This is a rare, special instance where he has a song with both; he replays the track, listening to how his deep voice sounds soft, almost sensual as he raps.

“Do you want to listen, hyung?” he asks as he offers Hyunwoo the headphones. “I’ve been working on this for a while.”

Hyunwoo puts them on and listens, entranced. “Damn, Kyun,” he says as the song fades out, wonder written all over his face. “Can I listen to it again?”

/

The flight to Japan is relatively short and the entire group piles into multiple vehicles, caravanning Spotlight’s staff and artists south to Chiba where KCON will be held. Rain patters against the window on and off throughout the drive and Changkyun half-listens to Minhyuk as he chatters.

Rehearsals are quick and relatively painless once they arrive; as they run through sound check and finalize certain dance moves with Hyungwon, Changkyun begins to feel the familiar tickle of excitement in the pit of his stomach.

“Do you want to run through it one more time?” Hyungwon asks as he dabs sweat off his forehead, already looking stricken.

“Nah, we’re good,” Jooheon responds with an easy smile.

“O-kay,” the choreographer calls out as he rubs his temples, “send the next artists out, please!” 

Backstage is a mess of assistants, managers, stylists and artists all in a state of motion as they prepare for the day. Changkyun spots coffee sitting unattended on Hyunwoo’s workstation and makes a beeline for it, snatching it up and stealing a long sip.

He instantly regrets the decision. “What _is_ that, hyung?” he gags and coughs, sticking out his tongue, hoping the air will somehow purify his mouth.

“It’s an orange americano,” Hyunwoo replies with a shrug as he continues to calmly brush plum eyeshadow onto one of the solo artists, as if that’s a completely normal drink.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Changkyun scrunches his nose as he sets down the drink, not missing the smile tugging at Hyunwoo’s lips.

“Changkyun!” Jooheon bellows as trot music begins to blast from Minhyuk’s phone. “Come over here and judge our dance off!”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice, but after a few minutes the competition is forgotten and he joins in on the fun. The friends hype each other up, each dance move more exaggerated than the last. Hyunwoo is supposed to be working, but Changkyun doesn’t need to do much to snag his attention. 

“Stop distracting me, Kyun,” he scolds without any bite as Changkyun falls over while trying to twerk. “I had to redo her eyeliner twice because I was laughing.”

“Stop watching me then,” Changkyun fires back, feeling a little flirty despite the ugly grey and navy school uniform he’s wearing.

Kihyun comes back into the room, checks their mics and leads them to the stage entrance. The crowd is loud today, energizing; Changkyun feels the familiar buzz building underneath his skin as he and Jooheon wrap their arms around each other for a moment before they run out onto the stage. Thick clouds blot out the sun, but trap June’s immense heat; the perfect conditions for a water stage. 

The performance starts out like a normal cute stage would, with cheek poking and numerous finger hearts, but somewhere between the second and third song, it descends into chaos. Water is everywhere as Changkyun and Jooheon spray the crowd and each other; their soaked jackets are tossed aside into a pile somewhere and their button down shirts are somehow half unbuttoned, but they could care less. Changkyun pushes his hair out of his eyes and holds out the microphone, feeling a rush of euphoria as the crowd raps his lyrics.

It never gets old, performing his own music. Exhaustion and the long hours spent hunched over a keyboard melt away once Changkyun is onstage, under the white hot lights, watching how his music can connect a group of strangers to each other, and to himself. He’s so focused on Jooheon and the audience that he almost misses Hyunwoo standing off-stage with an armful of towels, looking at Changkyun like he is the only star glittering in the sky.

/

Later that night, Minhyuk’s hotel room becomes the unofficial gathering place for Spotlight’s artists; they are on company-mandated lockdown until after the following evening’s KCON main stage performance, but Kihyun takes pity on them and orders in a feast for dinner. Soon the round table is covered in dishes of ramen, takoyaki, tempura and katsu. They all devour the food while talking and laughing, sharing past performance horror stories and future ambitions. 

Changkyun stares down at Shibuya’s colorful, lively streets, hungry to explore the city again, so when Minhyuk brings up ice cream, he immediately joins in on pestering their manager.

“The ice cream shop is only a block away—”

“—and the ice cream would melt if you had to bring it to us,” Changkyun tacks on with wide, innocent eyes.

“Fine,” Kihyun relents as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “but we’re coming straight back here.”

With ice cream in hand, the group is in high spirits as they walk back to the hotel, but Changkyun hooks a finger into one of Hyunwoo’s jean belt loops, slowing him down. Hyunwoo looks down at him expectantly.

“Let’s walk around for a little bit,” he murmurs as he watches the rest of the group turn a corner.

“Won’t you get into trouble?”

“Have you seen this face?” Changkyun grins. “We’ll be fine.”

More so than anywhere else Changkyun has traveled, Tokyo feels like a second home. Well after nightfall, the air is still thick and warm; roads and sidewalks are wet from a passing rain, leftover puddles reflecting the glittering lights all around them.

Hyunwoo takes pictures as Changkyun points out his favorite manga store, the tiny hole-in-the-wall ramen shop that has somehow survived for decades, a multi-level arcade; each place attached to memories, stories that reveal little pieces of the life Hyunwoo missed out on.

“Do you want to take a selca?” Hyunwoo asks. They aren’t in front of anything in particular, just another street glowing with neon lights. Changkyun presses into his side and they take a few pictures together. It shouldn’t feel so significant for two friends to wander around a foreign city together, taking pictures on their phones. Hyunwoo’s arm slips around his shoulder as they take another one, and it strikes Changkyun that these are the first pictures they’ve taken alone together since their trainee days.

A text bubble pops up on his phone. Then a few more.

“Shit,” Changkyun swears as he stares at the angry messages. “I have to head back. Busted.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“Nah. It’ll be okay.”

Kihyun is standing outside his hotel room with flushed cheeks and blazing eyes, absolutely fuming, but deadly quiet as Changkyun opens the door. He sits on the bed, watching as his manager paces the room silently for a few minutes before listing every single rule he broke.

“I needed to walk around a little bit, hyung.”

“Something could’ve happened to you!” Kihyun gesticulates for emphasis, clearly exasperated.

“Hyunwoo-hyung was with me,” Changkyun blurts, cutting himself off once he realizes what he admitted.

“Oh.” Kihyun blinks, letting the news sink in. “That’s why you seem so happy.”

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“I’m only going to say this once,” Kihyun says sharply, his eyes dark and serious, “you need to focus on your career, Changkyun. One mistake and you will be kicked out onto the concrete. I’ve seen it happen to artists even bigger than you.”

“Why are you saying this?” he asks cautiously.

“Just wait a few more years, Kyun,” Kihyun’s voice is soft almost pleading, betraying his worry. “Then you’ll have freedom.”

“Is that true, hyung?” he asks quietly. “Is there really such thing as freedom in this industry?”

Kihyun looks pained. “No,” he answers truthfully, “but at least you would have a hell of a lot better shot.”

/

“We’re going out tonight!” Minhyuk announces as soon as Changkyun opens his hotel room door, dressed in comfortable sweatpants with headphones hanging around his neck; the singer has several bags in hand from a few hours of shopping with Jooheon after the main music festival event ended. “I already told everyone else. We’re leaving in thirty!”

Changkyun doesn’t have the chance to go out very often; clubbing isn’t necessarily his scene, but he likes music and dancing, so he shrugs and grudgingly agrees to join them. He settles on an all black outfit—jeans with rips in the thighs and a thin sweater—with silver looped around his neck and wrist.

He hears another knock on the door and opens it to find Hyunwoo standing there with brushes and palettes cradled in his hands. 

“Wow,” Hyunwoo breathes out as his eyes roam appreciatively over Changkyun’s body then back to his eyes. “You look hot—uh,” he makes a choking sound and his ears flare red, “I mean, you look pretty good tonight, Kyun.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles shyly as his eyes follow the lines of Hyunwoo’s body, from black jeans that accentuate his muscular thighs up to the dark green satin shirt that clings to his wide shoulders. Changkyun’s mouth goes dry. “You don’t look too bad either, hyung. Do you want to come in?”

Hyunwoo sets the palettes down on the bathroom counter. “Do you have any requests?”

Changkyun shrugs. “Nah. Work your magic.”

There’s something different about Hyunwoo doing his makeup in a quiet hotel room; it feels more intimate in a way that makes it a little hard to breathe. 

“You’re not wearing any jewelry,” Changkyun comments just to take his mind off Hyunwoo’s fingers brushing over his skin.

“I didn’t bring any with me,” he says, his gaze catching on the silver chains around Changkyun’s neck. “Your makeup is done. Is it okay?”

Changkyun flicks his eyes to the mirror; his eye makeup is bold and dramatic. Sexy. “Yeah. Thanks, hyung.”

Hyunwoo applies his own eye makeup—a shimmery rose gold that somehow makes his eyes look even prettier—and they meet up with Minhyuk, Jooheon and Hyungwon in the hotel lobby.

The friends are relaxed as they eat dinner—sushi at a sleek restaurant in Ginza, where the fish is so fresh and soft that it almost melts in Changkyun’s mouth—then they split up and take two taxis to the club. 

All Changkyun knows about the club beforehand is that it’s very exclusive, expensive and that Minhyuk has a guest key courtesy of the owner. From the outside it doesn’t look much different from the surrounding buildings, but once inside they enter an elevator that takes them to the VIP area all the way at the top.

“Pictures aren’t allowed,” Minhyuk explains as they walk through a darkened hallway lit only by small lights inlaid into the shiny black floor. “So we should be able to chill out here tonight and not be all over Twitter tomorrow.”

A hostess weaves them through the crowd to a reserved booth that overlooks the dance floor. Music throbs through the speakers in a low, pulsing beat, and lights flash purple then blue over their faces as they drink shots. Hyunwoo touches Changkyun’s thigh as he and Hyungwon talk about freestyle dancing; it’s a light touch, not more than his thumb brushing over the skin exposed through the rips in his jeans, but Changkyun feels it everywhere.

“Let’s dance!” Hyungwon announces, pulling Hyunwoo out of the booth and they’re lost instantly in the crowd. Jooheon and Minhyuk are wrapped up in each other, reveling in a rare night out together, and they barely acknowledge Changkyun as he leaves the booth. Low, distorted bass reverberates under Changkyun’s skin as he weaves through the sea of bodies looking for Hyunwoo.

Then he sees him near the DJ table.

Changkyun has danced with Hyunwoo more times than he can count, nabbing an empty dance studio and dancing until they fall onto their backs, breathing heavily. But for some reason tonight feels different. Hyunwoo’s body may be solid and athletic, but he’s surprisingly agile and light on his feet as he and Hyungwon experiment with tricky footwork. Then Hyungwon is walking toward the bar and Hyunwoo rolls his hips to the dirty beat, his fingers tracing over his chest and down his flexing stomach. He’s sandwiched between random clubbers, eyes lidded and sweat already starting to glisten on his neck, obviously lost in the music; Changkyun wants nothing more than to press up against him and—

“Do you have a crush on Hyunwoo-hyung?” comes a loud voice in his ear and even before he looks up, he knows that Hyungwon is smirking. “You two keep eye fucking each other. I would know because I was trying to flirt with him but he was only looking at you all night.”

“What?”

Hyungwon juts his chin in Hyunwoo’s direction and Changkyun looks again; this time their eyes catch and his gaze is burning.

“You should dance with him,” Hyungwon says as he nudges him forward.

Hyunwoo begins to walk towards him and they meet in the middle. “Want to dance?” he asks low in Changkyun's ear, leaning in so close that their bodies are practically touching. Changkyun answers by pressing in even closer and they begin to move.

Something sparks low and hot in his belly whenever he’s around Hyunwoo, but as they dance together pure, honest need buzzes under his skin. He grinds back, smirking when he feels hands rest on his hips, and they melt together as they move. Hyunwoo noses at his neck as they dance sending little shivers over his skin—and it isn’t enough. Changkyun wants Hyunwoo to touch him, to really touch him, so he laces their fingers together and drags Hyunwoo’s hand over his hip bones, up his stomach and over his chest, almost keening when he brushes against his nipple through his shirt. He feels hot and he closes his eyes, feeling the music pounding to the rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling Hyunwoo’s hot hand through his thin shirt, so close to his skin. 

“Is this okay?” Hyunwoo asks, his lips brushing against Changkyun’s ear as he runs his fingers over his side. Changkyun nods and leans back against Hyunwoo’s shoulder, snaking an arm up to thread fingers through his hair. He cranes his neck and looks up into hazy eyes just as they flicker down to his lips.

Changkyun has no idea, no fucking clue what he’s doing as he runs his fingers over Hyunwoo’s neck then pulls him down so that their lips touch. Hyunwoo kisses him gently, so gently, like he’s precious, like he’s the oxygen that he needs to breathe. He feels so warm pressed up against Hyunwoo and as their lips slide together, everything around him fades away.

“Kyun,” Hyunwoo chokes out and completely freezes, staring at him with horrified eyes. “Shit. I’m so sorry.”

Then he’s gone, leaving Changkyun dazed and alone on the dance floor.

But Changkyun isn’t going to go through that again.

“You can’t just fucking leave,” he grits out as he catches Hyunwoo’s arm and turns him around. They’re on the edge of the dance floor, so Changkyun drags him into one of the empty VIP rooms near the bar. “What was that?”

“A mistake. I drank too much—”

“Bullshit,” Changkyun spits out, voice loud in the quiet room. “For someone who is usually so honest, you’re full of shit.”

Hyunwoo stares at him and sucks in a shaky breath. “I knew this was a mistake,” he murmurs as he runs fingers through his hair, sitting down on one of the couches. It’s littered with empty bottles, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. “I told Hoseok that this would happen again.”

“What do you mean?”

“I really care about you. No, that’s not it,” he mutters as he looks down at his shoes. When he looks back up at Changkyun, his eyes are open and unguarded, dark and soulful. “I think I’m falling in love with you again, Changkyun,” he confesses so quietly that it sounds like an apology. He looks so ripped apart that Changkyun almost reaches out to comfort him. “I don’t know if I ever stopped.”

The confession steals the oxygen from Changkyun’s lungs and he sits down, his mind reeling in the silence.

“I was going to tell you everything that night at the beach. I couldn’t hold it in any longer, but,” Hyunwoo continues and laughs shortly, a shard of sadness splitting the sound in two, “you were so close to debut, Kyun.”

“You were too, hyung,” he says around the lump in his throat and his mind drifts back to all those nights they spent recording songs and uploading dance videos together. “We could have collaborated—you could have been on stage with me.”

Hyunwoo shrugs, too modest. “I was just a dancer who thought he could sing, but you—” he says, and there is a quality to his voice that makes Changkyun’s chest tight. “Changkyun, you’re a star.”

“I’ve been so lonely, hyung,” he whispers and his voice cracks; he’s biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes something metallic on his tongue. “Everything reminded me of you. I waited years not knowing what the hell happened. I didn’t even know if you were okay.” 

“I didn’t know,” Hyunwoo murmurs and swallows thickly. “I thought that you would be so busy with debut that you would forget me.”

“You thought I could just forget you?” his voice raises an octave and he realizes belatedly that he’s shaking. “Don’t you get it, hyung?”

They look at each other and Hyunwoo has never looked so lost. “I’ve loved you for years and you fucking broke my heart!”

“Oh,” Hyunwoo sighs, his shoulders sagging.

“You just left.” Changkyun feels something crack inside him; his eyes burn and he feels something wet on his cheek, but he wipes at it angrily.

“I’m so sorry, Changkyun,” Hyunwoo whispers as he sits next to him on the couch. “I thought that I was protecting you.”

“You don’t need to protect me, hyung.” Changkyun releases a long exhale and feels like he’s on the edge of a precipice. “So, now what?”

“I don’t know,” Hyunwoo admits, shaking his head. “I should probably ask Kihyun to transfer me back to Minhyuk’s makeup team full time.”

“So, you’re going to run away again,” Changkyun huffs bitterly.

“What else am I supposed to do, Changkyun? We can’t be together, but whenever I’m around you, I want to touch you,” Hyunwoo says, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t sit right next to you and not want to hold your hand.”

“Then do it, hyung,” Changkyun challenges quietly as they meet eyes. He rests his hand on his knee, his pinky grazing Hyunwoo’s.

“What?”

“Aren’t you tired of this? Don’t you think that we’ve waited long enough?” It’s only when the words are torn out of him and hanging in the air between them that he realizes the depth of his own feelings.

Hyunwoo stares at him, obviously torn, but Changkyun feels a small flicker of courage.

“You’re not my everything, Hyunwoo. I have music and Jooheon, and if we decide that dating would be too risky and drift apart, I would be sad, but ultimately okay,” he admits quietly as he holds Hyunwoo’s eyes. “But, you’re the only one I want to write songs about. You’re the first person I think of in the morning and the last person I want to say goodnight to.”

He stands up and Hyunwoo’s eyes follow him. “I know what I want. Do you?”

Changkyun leaves the room with Hyunwoo staring after him and after he tells Jooheon that he’s heading back to the hotel, he flags down a taxi and sags into the backseat, watching as the city blurs past him. By the time he reaches the room, he feels the fire burning low in his stomach flare then snuff out. All he wants to do is shower then crawl into bed. Hot water streams over his back as he rests his forehead against the glass wall and reality crashes down on him.

He fucked up—and he probably lost one of his best friends. That’s when the final protective wall around his heart shatters and he sinks to the shower floor, muffling his sobs with his fist until everything drains out of him.

A quiet knock on the door startles him as he steps out of the shower. Jooheon probably wants to hear everything that happened at the club. Changkyun groans; he’s not ready to talk about it yet. He wraps a towel around his waist and cracks the door open, ready to tell his friend that he’s going to bed. 

Nothing prepared him to see Hyunwoo standing there breathing heavily, his hair matted to his sweaty forehead and clothes askew. 

“Did you run here, hyung?”

Hyunwoo nods, his lips pulling up into a shy grin and Changkyun is so hopelessly endeared. “I don’t want to ruin your career—” he begins.

“I know, I don’t either.”

“—and I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” Hyunwoo murmurs as he takes a step closer and Changkyun’s stomach flips, “but I want you, Kyun. Let's make this work.”

“Fucking finally,” Changkyun breathes out as relief washes through him; he pulls Hyunwoo into the room, kicking the door closed behind him.

Hyunwoo’s hand rolls up his spine to cradle his neck, and his other hand rests on his jaw, then their lips press together. Hyunwoo kisses how he dances, slow and deep and sensual, and Changkyun leans into the kiss, opening his mouth so that their tongues brush together. Hyunwoo pushes him against the door, deepening the kiss—and the rest of the world fizzles out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you're up to it, please comment!! They really do make my day!
> 
> Special shout out to AO3 users showkyun and kz109 who have both supported this story since the beginning. I know how difficult it is to read an ongoing fic. Thank you so much for everything!! 
> 
> I have a lot of real life stuff going on right now that is not only distracting, but it's also been pretty heartbreaking, so I probably won't be able to post the next chapter until the end of the month. Hopefully this chapter will be able to satisfy your showkyun craving until then :)
> 
> Until next time,  
> ♡ cupofgenmaicha


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Thank you so much for waiting patiently as I finished writing this chapter! I really hope that you enjoy it!

Changkyun wakes to the feeling of a warm hand on his belly and someone breathing in soft puffs against his neck. He shifts on the bed, rolling to face Hyunwoo who is still asleep next to him. It’s been so long since Changkyun has slept through the night with someone else that it should feel foreign, or even a little scary, but Changkyun only feels a gentle warmth rolling down his spine and radiating out to the tips of his toes. 

Hyunwoo is his boyfriend now; they made it official between soft kisses and huffs of endeared laughter. 

The thought makes him smile into his pillow—and maybe kick his feet a little, gently jostling the man sleeping next to him. Changkyun peeks up and watches Hyunwoo’s back move up and down with slow, steady breaths; his tan skin practically glows in the early morning light streaming into the room. Changkyun can hear the city already awake and bustling dozens of floors below them; he knows that Kihyun will be calling him soon to arrange breakfast, luggage and transportation back to the airport.

Changkyun has a boyfriend—and now they’re going to be separated for three weeks.

He can’t help but pout as he thinks about Hyunwoo staying behind in Japan as part of Minhyuk’s beauty team, then he pouts even harder when his eyes land on the angry red blisters forming on Hyunwoo’s heels. “Stupid man,” he mutters as he sits up to examine them more closely. Yep, they’re definitely from running around Tokyo in dress shoes. He runs a gentle finger over them, the only salve he can offer so early in the morning. “Why didn’t you take a taxi?”

“Hey,” Hyunwoo rumbles, his voice low and rough. “I heard that. I happen to have very good reasons for not taking a taxi.”

Changkyun raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“My Japanese vocabulary is pretty much limited to ordering food—” Hyunwoo says as he rolls over onto his back and folds his arms behind his head; the sheet inches below his navel, revealing a happy trail that Changkyun is tempted to kiss, “—and I didn’t want to fuck up again and lose the most important person in my life.”

Changkyun makes an embarrassed noise and kicks Hyunwoo under the covers. “You can’t say sweet shit so early in the morning, hyung.”

Hyunwoo laughs and tackles Changkyun back to the bed, hugging him close until he melts against his chest. Hyunwoo’s heart beats steadily underneath his palm.

“Did you sleep well?” Changkyun asks and for some reason he feels shy as he looks into his boyfriend’s warm brown eyes and brushes down strands of his fluffy hair.

“Yeah.” Hyunwoo smiles and his eyes crinkle in the corners. “You?”

Changkyun nods silently, not quite ready to tell him that it was the best night’s sleep he’s had in years. He’s still a little dazed as his thoughts drift to the previous night and how he went from being certain that he had lost one of his best friends to gaining a boyfriend in a matter of hours.

Then the rest of the night comes back to him: Hyunwoo pressing him against the door and kissing him hard. His warm skin breaking out into goosebumps as his back touched the cool wood. His knees as they hit the edge of the bed and the sweet relief he felt when they rolled their hips together. After years of pent up frustration, it didn’t take long for Hyunwoo’s fingers to dip under the thin towel wrapped around Changkyun’s waist, seeking more skin.

Changkyun _wanted_ but he was also aware of how fragile and beautiful it was, this new thing between them, and how easy it could be to fracture it by moving too quickly.

“Let’s take it slow,” he whispered against Hyunwoo’s lips and the words seemed to cut through the haze because their kisses became instantly softer, their touches gentle and lingering with no real purpose other than for them to feel close. They kissed until they couldn’t keep their eyes open any longer and then they fell asleep on the bed tangled in each other. 

But that was last night—and Changkyun doesn’t want to take it slow anymore. He props himself up on Hyunwoo’s chest and leans down to press their lips together, savoring the small pleased sound rumbling deep in his boyfriend’s throat. Hyunwoo’s palm comes to rest on Changkyun’s hip bone as they kiss, sending little sparks dancing over his skin; the kiss is infuriatingly gentle and every time Changkyun tries to deepen it, Hyunwoo pulls back to smatter kisses over his nose and cheeks.

“Hyung!” Changkyun’s deep voice is edged with a whine as he chases his boyfriend’s lips. He has waited over five years for this, dammit!

“Hey,” Hyunwoo murmurs as he cups Changkyun’s cheek, “I want you too, but I think you were right last night. Let’s take this slow and we can see how we’re feeling when I’m back home in a few weeks.”

Hyunwoo doesn’t say it outright, but the message is written clearly in his eyes: he’s giving Changkyun an out. Three weeks apart to really think about all this. To make sure. 

Changkyun is as grateful as he is sexually frustrated, but Hyunwoo takes his time kissing his pout away.

“I don’t want to get up yet, but Minhyuk has his first fan meeting this afternoon,” Hyunwoo says apologetically as he sits up and stretches. “And you have to leave for the airport soon.”

Just then Changkyun’s phone rings with a wake up call from Kihyun and he half-listens to his manager as he lets his eyes lazily roam over Hyunwoo’s strong thighs and nice ass as he pulls on the previous night’s rumpled clothes.

Hyunwoo hesitates near the door, his hand on the handle, and Changkyun hangs up and throws his phone back on the bed.

“I don’t want to leave yet,” Hyunwoo admits quietly as they meet eyes; his lips pull up into a small smile and he shrugs, sheepish—it does something to Changkyun’s heart because he all but runs and burrows himself into Hyunwoo’s chest for one last hug and rolls up onto his toes to press their lips together one more time.

“Go,” Changkyun says against his lips. “I’ll see you in three weeks.”

Hyunwoo opens the door, checks to make sure the hallway is empty, then he slips out of the room. The door closes behind him with a quiet _click_ leaving Changkyun alone—and he somehow already misses him.

/

The van ride to the airport is an unusually solemn affair; both rappers stare out opposite windows, each lost in his own thoughts. Changkyun sighs each time a new song comes on shuffle and his first instinct is to share it with Hyunwoo only to remember that he is staying behind in Tokyo; they may be new boyfriends, but they’re also longtime friends and he can’t help but feel his absence.

Changkyun presses his forehead to the glass and sighs again, his mood grey despite the sunshine.

“Is all this sighing really because Kihyun-hyung wouldn’t give you more snacks or is something else going on?” Jooheon asks, sounding a bit testy. “Your sulking is hurting my head.”

“We slept together,” Changkyun blurts.

“What?” Jooheon flails and exclaims so loudly that Kihyun pulls out his earbud and turns around in the seat to check on them. They both smile at him and when he shrugs and faces forward again, Jooheon slides over the bench to plaster himself to Changkyun’s side. “What?” he whispers so emphatically that it sounds more like a hiss. “With Hyunwoo-hyung?”

“We didn’t fuck or anything,” Changkyun whispers back and is met with a skeptical expression. “We had a fight at the club, then Hyunwoo came to my room and we made up, and somehow slept in the same bed.”

“Okay. Wow, that’s still big news. So, what’s the problem?”

Changkyun wrinkles his nose. “We decided to take it slow.” He realizes how petulant he sounds right now, but he misses his boyfriend and by taking it slow, he didn’t mean that he wanted to be separated by a body of water for three weeks.

Jooheon nods. “Seems sensible. You started dating, what—like twelve hours ago?”

“Hyung,” Changkyun mutters sullenly. How does he explain this excitement bubbling inside him to someone who has been dating for a few years already? “You wouldn’t understand because you and Minhyuk are like an old married couple.”

Jooheon snorts and shoves him. “Damn, you're such a brat sometimes.”

Changkyun grins and he already feels a little lighter. “Have you checked out the response to the KCON stage?” he asks as he pulls out his phone. He’s been so preoccupied with Hyunwoo that he hasn’t even thought about monitoring comments.

“Yep,” Jooheon says and he grins so widely that his dimples pop. “Most fans seemed pretty happy with the performance.”

They try to keep up with their fans’ response, but with fans come an equal amount of vitriolic anti-fans, so reading through social media tends to be a double-edged sword. Changkyun scrolls through tweets, grinning at the memes and messages their fans tweeted out after the performance—then he freezes and his stomach drops. He’s not smiling anymore. 

**Replying to @OfficialShadowCrew**

_nation’s best rappers!!! you were on fire yesterday...gotta ask tho, who’s the guy in the pictures, I.M???_

Below the tweet are two grainy pictures taken at night of Changkyun and Hyunwoo walking around Tokyo; Changkyun’s heart sinks when he realizes that the tweet is only one of several thousand. Not only that, but **Son Hyunwoo** , **I.M** , **Im Changkyun** , **Shadow Crew** , and **makeup artist** are all trending.

“Shit,” Changkyun swears quietly. How did they figure out Hyunwoo’s full name? He scrolls through comments and articles trying to track down the original poster. From the pictures’ poor quality, he supposes it was a fan who probably recognized Hyunwoo from a few of their group Instagram posts. “Hyung, some fans figured out Hyunwoo’s name and now there are articles detailing our trainee days together.”

Jooheon looks over and skims one of the articles; it’s riddled with quotes from anonymous people “close to the source”. Most of the comments are pretty generic, but they all generally conclude that Changkyun and Hyunwoo were damn near inseparable as trainees.

“Isn’t this an invasion of privacy? Can’t we sue or something?” Changkyun chews on his thumbnail, trying to think; he had never really been bothered by articles written about himself, but guilt is gnawing at his stomach just seeing his new boyfriend’s name trending. It feels wrong.

Jooheon half-shrugs, unfazed. “This happens all the time and really, it could be a whole lot worse.”

Changkyun bites his lip and nods slowly; he knows that Jooheon and Minhyuk have already weathered raging social media tempests and have come out the other end wary and stressed, but relatively intact.

“How do you and Minhyuk manage? This is nothing and I already feel sick.”

“It’s hard to live in the public eye and try to nurture a relationship, Kyun. I’m not gonna lie to you. This—” Jooheon murmurs as he taps on the phone screen, “—is only the beginning. You can’t go on dates alone. You don’t have any privacy. You have to get used to a constant stream of gossip and be ready to deny that you’re in a relationship—”

Changkyun flinches back; he’s seen unrealistic industry and fan expectations force Jooheon and Minhyuk to deny their relationship over the years, but just the thought alone makes his chest tight. As if Jooheon is reading his thoughts, he settles a comforting hand on Changkyun’s shoulder. 

“—but if the person is worth it, then they’re worth it.”

/

Shadow Crew’s comeback is already scheduled for autumn and both rappers have used the time away from their boyfriends to finalize the mini-album’s tracks in their respective studios. Changkyun pours himself into his work, so singularly focused on perfecting each track that he often forgets to eat or take a break. After hours of silence, Changkyun jolts at the sudden obnoxious FaceTime call tone blaring from his phone, and he bangs his knee against the desk. Cursing, he rubs the skin with an irritated scowl.

All annoyance melts away when he sees who is calling.

“Hey,” Changkyun says in greeting, hearing how low his voice sounds after not speaking all day. It’s well after midnight and Changkyun is existing off the fumes of his early-morning americano, stress and the dregs of inspiration. If he were to glance at himself in the tiny square box in the corner of the screen, he would see dark circles beginning to form under his bloodshot eyes and messy hair pushed down by the grey hoodie he’s wearing. But he’s too busy looking at Hyunwoo, soaking in the slight stubble darkening his chin and the roundness of his cheeks as he smiles. His hair is damp from showering and he’s wearing his glasses, smiling at Changkyun in an unbelievably fond way that makes Changkyun melt back into his seat. He can imagine snuggling into Hyunwoo and feeling his strong arms wrapping around his torso; he can almost hear the quiet words of comfort murmured low into his ear and feel the soft kisses on his neck.

The thought makes his heart ache a little.

“Have you eaten?” Hyunwoo asks as he smushes his cheek against his palm; he’s sitting alone in a hotel room, somehow lucking out by not being assigned a roommate. Changkyun chews on his thumbnail so he doesn’t do something stupid like coo or reach out to touch the phone screen; an endeared smile tugs at his lips anyway.

“Checking up on me, hyung?”

Hyunwoo laughs quietly and looks off-screen for a moment before nodding shyly. “Maybe,” he admits and there is a long pause as they look at each other, then he quietly continues, “I miss you, Kyun.”

“I miss you too.” Talking to him through a screen is so much harder than Changkyun had imagined. He never expected to feel a lump in his throat or the sudden overwhelming urge to shave the stubble off his boyfriend’s chin. He clears his throat. “Did you see what I messaged you?”

Hyunwoo isn’t the type of person to scroll aimlessly through social media so Changkyun has been keeping him updated; luckily, there haven’t been many new developments.

Hyunwoo hums thoughtfully, then asks, “Have there been any pictures from—”

“The club?” Changkyun supplies after his boyfriend’s voice trails off. “No.”

Hyunwoo hangs his head and releases a long breath, his relief palpable. “I shouldn’t have been so careless. I just—wasn’t thinking.”

“Hey,” Changkyun interjects softly, wishing more than anything that he could touch Hyunwoo right now and offer comfort, “we were both there and I wanted it just as much as you. I’m more concerned about people looking into our trainee days and finding out everything they can about you.”

This time it’s Hyunwoo who looks directly into the camera, unwavering. “Don’t worry about me, Kyun,” he reassures in a low, soft voice. “I know what I’m getting myself into. We’ll figure everything out.”

After a few more reassurances, Hyunwoo insists that Changkyun eat something; rolling his eyes and grumbling the entire time, the rapper cooks himself some instant ramyeon in Spotlight’s communal kitchen and returns to his studio. He can’t help but smile when he sees Hyunwoo still on screen, his lips pursed into a cute pout, waiting for him patiently.

“Okay,” Changkyun says as he blows on the ramyeon, “tell me about Japan.”

Hyunwoo has only been gone for a week, but he, Minhyuk and the rest of the staff have been shuffled from schedule to schedule around Japan, hardly allowing for much downtime.

“I’m so tired that tonight at the ramen restaurant I thought I was ordering chuka ramen, but I kept saying chinpo ramen—”

Changkyun snorts and almost chokes on the noodles. “You’re fucking kidding me. You tried to order dick ramen, hyung?”

Hyunwoo nods his head solemnly. “Four separate times. I couldn’t understand why the waitress looked so bewildered. Minhyuk actually fell out of his chair because he was too busy laughing and not helping me.” 

Changkyun is trying—he’s really trying not to laugh—but Hyunwoo is pouting right now and Changkyun can imagine how flustered he must have been earlier, with an adorable look of confusion and red ears. His shoulders begin to shake and he hides his face as he laughs for the first time all day. “Sorry,” he chokes out between giggles, “you’re just so cute, hyung. I can’t help it.”

He’s so busy laughing at Hyunwoo’s exaggerated pout that he doesn’t immediately hear the studio door opening.

“Aww, baby,” Changkyun coos, not even realizing that he used a pet name, “I promise to kiss you when you come back—and maybe give you a taste of _my_ dick ramen—”

“Oh, shit!” exclaims a familiar voice from behind him.

Changkyun turns around, a wide smile still on his face, and is surprised to see Hoseok standing frozen in the doorway dressed in sweats and a hat, with a plastic bag filled with takeout in his hand. The producer’s eyes are fixed on Changkyun’s phone screen where Hyunwoo is very clearly sitting shirtless, his cheeks tinged pink as he repeats shyly under his breath, “baby?” 

Clearly mortified, Hoseok’s eyes open wide and he squeaks out, “I’m so sorry, Changkyun.”

Then he stumbles out of the room and disappears. For over a week.

/

“Hyung?” Changkyun calls through the producer’s apartment door as he pounds on it. “I know you’re in there. You can’t hide from me forever.”

“Hoseok isn’t here!” sing songs a high-pitched voice. “Please come back later! Goodbye!” 

“I brought spicy ramyeon.”

A pause—then the door slowly cracks open to reveal one of Hoseok’s eyes. “Did you bring eggs too?”

“Yep,” he answers as he holds up the bag, “and scallions.”

Hoseok contemplates for a moment, then opens the door and snatches the bag, practically skipping to the kitchen to make the ramyeon. Changkyun toes off his shoes and follows him, noting the various weights stacked haphazardly on the floor and the used towels thrown into a messy pile in the corner. Hoseok’s shirt is soaked through like he’s been exercising nonstop all day. Sweat glistens on his neck and his biceps as he boils the water. Dark smudges bruise Hoseok’s eyes betraying his exhaustion.

Soon the ramyeon is boiled and the eggs are cracked on top. They lean against the bar, both slurping hot noodles out of the pot, steadfastly ignoring the tension pulled taut and vibrating between them.

“What’s going on, hyung?” Changkyun finally asks to cut through the tense silence. “You only exercise like this when you’re stressed about something.”

Hoseok ignores him and continues to eat, eyes locked on the tin pot. Changkyun picks at the noodles, thinking back to all the times Hoseok had encouraged him to follow his heart and find love. It doesn’t make sense that he would be this upset or embarrassed about stumbling upon Changkyun and Hyunwoo’s budding relationship.

Something prickles the back of Changkyun’s mind, nagging him; he can’t quite shake the feeling that he’s missing something pretty big.

_I told Hoseok that this would happen again._

Hyunwoo’s words from their fight a few weeks ago hit him like a freight train. He studies the man in front of him; Hoseok knows more than he’s letting on.

“Did Hyunwoo tell you that we’re dating?”

“Yeah.” Hoseok nods and finally looks up, pain evident in his eyes. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Then why do you look so upset, hyung?” Changkyun asks softly, watching as Hoseok shifts uncomfortably while he struggles to find the right words.

“I haven’t seen you look this happy since you were a trainee,” Hoseok sighs and his voice wavers. “You’ve both been miserable for years and it’s all my fault.” 

Changkyun blinks, confused, but also desperate to dispel Hoseok’s misplaced misery. “Hyunwoo-hyung was worried about ruining my career so he left before he could confess.”

“I know,” Hoseok whispers brokenly and the look in his eyes makes Changkyun’s throat tight. “I told him not to confess.” 

“What?” Changkyun is speechless as a dozen different emotions prick at his heart. He forces himself to look into Hoseok’s eyes as he quietly demands, “Tell me everything, hyung.”

Leaving the empty ramyeon pot on the counter, they sit down on the couch in the only non-gym corner of the living room and Hoseok tells him everything, words trickling then tumbling out of him so quickly it’s as if a dam has been burst open. Hoseok recalls memories and recounts stories of how he watched his best friend slowly change in front of his eyes, from someone singularly dedicated to becoming an idol to someone so head over heels in love that he was willing to give up everything.

“He was so lovestruck, Changkyun,” Hoseok reminisces with a sad smile tugging at his lips, “and it made me so angry—so _scared_ —to see my best friend ready to throw away his entire future for the sake of some fleeting love.”

Changkyun swallows the admission like a shot of poison, each word ripping through his heart.

“So when he came back to the dorms after spending all night at the beach with you, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I shook him and told him to either put his career first or to get the fuck out of the training program.” Hoseok swallows thickly. “I convinced him that he would ruin both of your futures if he ever confessed to you.”

Changkyun bites his lip and stares at a point where the wood floor meets the thick black gym mat, trying to hold back the hot tears he feels scratching at his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. This may have happened five years ago but the grief is still raw; he’s still healing.

Hoseok continues so quietly that Changkyun strains to hear him over the blood whooshing in his ears. “I didn’t realize that he loved you so deeply that he would choose to give up the training program. Once he got that idea into his head, there was no way to convince him not to leave. And you—” Hoseok says as he rubs his neck, years of guilt and pain pinching his face, “—I had no idea how you felt until Hyunwoo left and your lyrics changed so suddenly. I didn’t realize how good you two were for each other until it was too late.”

Changkyun wipes at the silent tears streaming down his face and listens to Hoseok as he chokes back another quiet sob. “I’m so sorry, Changkyun-ah,” he whispers and that’s when Changkyun can’t hold back any longer and he hugs Hoseok tightly.

“I know you are, hyung,” Changkyun murmurs and Hoseok only cries harder. After a few minutes, they pull away from each other and Changkyun asks, “So is that why you worked so hard to find a position for Hyunwoo-hyung at the company? You were hoping to give us a second chance?”

Hoseok sniffles and nods, shyly averting his red, puffy eyes. “It wasn’t my place to break you two apart, but I was determined to work twice as hard to help you find your way back to each other.”

They meet eyes and both break out into grins—and Changkyun feels relief wash through him, pushing out and replacing each remaining shard of sadness with seeds of hope. Seeds of forgiveness and unconditional love.

Changkyun is finally ready to leave the past where it belongs and move forward—maybe now all three of them can. 

/

Changkyun checks his phone again, like he has every minute or so for the last hour. Ignoring the half-finished song on the computer screen, he scrolls through his texts, emails, and messages all while his knee continues to shake. He’s about to let out a battle cry and throw his phone against the wall when he hears a quiet knock on the studio door. 

Finally.

Changkyun feels little butterfly wings tickling his ribcage as he opens the door and finds Hyunwoo standing there in faded jeans and a black t-shirt, his hair pushed back by a hat, still so soft and cuddly, and every bit the boyfriend that Changkyun has been missing. Before Hyunwoo even has the chance to fully open his arms, Changkyun jumps on him and is instantly enveloped in warmth.

“You’re blond,” Hyunwoo murmurs into his newly-bleached hair and it’s so nice to hear his voice again.

“It’s for the comeback,” Changkyun laughs quietly to keep the other emotions at bay. “I really missed you, hyung.”

Hyunwoo hums in agreement. “I missed you too.”

The tension is there, burning under his skin. Changkyun feels it thick between them—the nervous excitement, the unspoken words sitting heavily on their tongues—it’s palpable as Hyunwoo hands over a large bag filled with gifts from Japan.

The studio feels too tiny, too claustrophobic, so Changkyun suggests that they move up to the rooftop. A few well-used couches and a small garden decorate the skyscraper’s roof, but what really draws Changkyun to the spot is the magnificent panoramic view of Seoul’s skyline. Even as the sun dips below the horizon, the summer heat hangs on, leaving the air balmy as the first star begins to glitter in the sky.

They open a few different bags of snacks and munch in silence as the city continues to buzz below them.

“I talked to Hoseok-hyung,” Changkyun begins as he crunches on another shrimp cracker; he doesn’t miss Hyunwoo’s sharp intake of breath. “He told me everything that happened.”

“Oh,” Hyunwoo breathes and looks at Changkyun with concerned eyes. “That must have been a lot to take in. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you.”

Changkyun shakes his head. “It was good, actually. I’m glad I finally know everything that happened. The more I think about it, I’m actually grateful that we never dated as trainees.”

“Yeah?” Hyunwoo’s eyebrows shoot up.

Changkyun hums. “We really were young and reckless. If we had risked everything to be together, there’s a good chance we would have been forced to break up anyway. Or worse—” Changkyun involuntarily winces, “—we could have lost everything and grown to resent each other.”

The thought alone hangs heavily over the couple and they sit silently for a few moments. Changkyun wants to pursue this relationship more than anything, but there is so much at stake—their careers, their privacy—he’s terrified that the stress of maintaining a secret relationship will eventually corrode all its inherent beauty. “Hyung—” Changkyun’s voice is hushed as he holds Hyunwoo’s gaze and all other words fail him.

There must be a hint of uncertainty in his eyes because Hyunwoo holds his hand and laces their fingers together, his movements slow and intentional, then he runs his thumb over Changkyun’s skin in gentle, soothing circles. “We’re not going to do anything that you’re not comfortable with, Kyun. If you want to wait a few more years, then I’ll wait with you. We move at your pace,” Hyunwoo murmurs earnestly as he kisses Changkyun’s palm. Hyunwoo’s gaze is sincere and tender, dispelling Changkyun's fear and anchoring him to the present moment. “I promise to stay by your side until you’re ready. I can do that for you, Changkyun.”

Changkyun’s heart damn near bursts and he leans forward to press their lips together. They kiss, soft and sweet, with Hyunwoo’s fingers on his jaw until Changkyun feels confident. Until he feels sure. Jooheon’s words come back to him: if the person is worth it, then they’re worth it.

And Changkyun has never been more certain of anything in his life than when he says, “I’m ready, hyung.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please comment if you're feeling up to it!! They truly make my day!
> 
> Also, I have a twitter now...you can follow me if you want?! I'm [@cupofgenmaicha](https://www.twitter.com/cupofgenmaicha)
> 
> Thank you so much again for reading! Until next time~  
> ♡ cupofgenmaicha


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! The last few weeks have been hell (understatement of the year, right?). After the initial shock and anger wore off, I began to think about my fics, particularly this one (due to the subject matter). Should I delete them? Orphan them? Abandon them? What's the right thing to do?? The thing is...writing is how I process my own feelings and experiences, as well as the world around me. I forced myself to stop writing these past few weeks and have been absolutely miserable. So I've decided to write again, not only to aid in my own healing, but also because I made a promise to all of you to finish my stories.
> 
> This chapter contains probably the softest smut you will ever read. I think the only explicit thing about it is the consent. Some tags to keep in mind: safe sex (condoms), rimming, riding, Kyun bottoms but they are both interested in switching, and aftercare.
> 
> The next chapter is unfortunately the last! It will continue as I originally planned well over a year ago, and yes, it does involve a dating scandal. If you have any questions about this please reach out to me in the comments or on twitter.

“This is dumb,” Changkyun grumbles as he rips off another shirt and throws it into the pile at his feet. He cocks an eyebrow and glares haughtily at his reflection in the mirror. “You are Im Changkyun— _no_ ,” he shakes his head and points at himself, “you are fucking I.M of Shadow Crew! You don’t care about what you wear!”

But the flare of indignation quickly snuffs out, his glare tempering itself into a pout because he _does_ care today. He huffs and sifts through the rest of his closet—too bright, too dark, too many stripes—

“Are you going to be ready anytime soon?” Jooheon asks from the bedroom doorway. The rapper’s lips press into a thin line when he sees that Changkyun is still half naked. “Kyun, are you—are you okay? Anything you want to talk about? I remember almost puking before my first date with Minhyuk.”

Changkyun sighs; he’s wanted this for years. He really _shouldn’t_ feel nervous. But even as he shrugs off his friend’s concern, his fingers twitch against his thigh and his stomach flips. He licks his dry lips; just the idea of going out on a date sends his heart rate soaring. 

Okay, maybe he’s a little nervous.

“Actually, hyung,” he murmurs as he stares blankly into his half-empty closet, then slowly turns to look at Jooheon, who is still leaning casually in the doorway, waiting. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

The knock at the apartment door makes him freeze and stare into Jooheon’s equally wide eyes, then there is a flurry of activity as Jooheon tears through Changkyun’s closet, throws a ball of clothes at him, and says, “Get your ass dressed, _then_ freak out.”

Changkyun ends up wearing an oversized black sweater and jeans, cozy and casual—perfect for the cool early autumn weather. He feels like his heart will beat out of his chest as he opens the apartment door, but all nervousness melts away when he sees his boyfriend.

“What’s with the disguise?” he asks, much too fond.

Between the floppy bucket hat and the black mask, Hyunwoo’s face is almost completely covered. Changkyun peeks under the brim of the hat just as Hyunwoo breaks out into a grin, his cheeks bunching above the mask and his pretty brown eyes crinkling in the corners—it’s Changkyun’s favorite smile. “I borrowed the hat from Hoseok. Didn’t want to call too much attention to myself.”

Changkyun’s lips twitch and he pulls his boyfriend into the apartment. “Everyone is going to see you anyway when we go to the theater.”

Hyunwoo huffs, a bit flustered. “I’ve never dated a celebrity before,” he mutters as he pulls down the mask with a pout, which only makes Changkyun want to kiss him. So he curls his fingers into Hyunwoo’s white t-shirt, rolls up onto his toes and presses a soft kiss to his lips.

“Sorry I’m late,” Hyunwoo apologizes as he removes the hat and runs fingers through his hair. “I didn’t know what to wear,” he admits sheepishly, wrapping his arms around Changkyun’s waist as he leans back down to kiss him. “Hoseok finally threw me out of the apartment.”

“Jooheon practically dressed me,” Changkyun admits and they giggle against each other’s lips before kissing again, slow and gentle and sweet. This will be their first real date as boyfriends and even though they will be spending the evening with friends, that does nothing to dampen their excitement.

“How’s the comeback prep going?” Hyunwoo asks as he rubs his thumb back and forth over Changkyun’s jaw.

This comeback season will be a little different because Minhyuk is featured on the track. His rich, husky voice perfectly complements the two rappers’ voices and truly highlights the title track’s slow, sensual sound. Kihyun and Hoseok advocated on Shadow Crew’s behalf and after a drawn out battle with upper management, the rappers were permitted to experiment and vary their sound—Changkyun will forever be grateful to them.

“I’m pretty tired,” Changkyun admits—and even that is an understatement considering how the three artists have been working themselves to the bone in preparation for comeback season—“but I can’t wait for you to hear the album.”

Hyunwoo has only heard bits and pieces of the songs in pre-production and Changkyun would be lying if he said that he wasn’t a little nervous for his boyfriend to hear the finished version. “Looking forward to it,” Hyunwoo murmurs warmly as he leans down to kiss him again. “You never fail to amaze me, Kyun.”

“Are you two ready to go yet?” Jooheon asks, not bothering to hide his exasperation as he pops his head out of his bedroom.

“Stop being grumpy, Honey,” Minhyuk chides as he hooks his chin onto Jooheon’s shoulder, his eyes bright. “They’re smooching.”

After a short taxi ride, the four friends stop by one of the myriad coffee shops dotting Apgujeong, then walk around the neighborhood, leisurely soaking up and enjoying this rare free time. After trailing behind Minhyuk and Jooheon on countless dates, Changkyun is familiar with the area. Sleek glass-paneled storefronts rise above smaller family-run restaurants and cafés; handwritten chalkboard signs and bright neon lights crowd the cityscape, each beckoning to the nameless crowds of well-dressed Seoulites walking briskly past. Moisture still clings to the foliage from a passing drizzle, saturating Seoul with hues of green, red and gold, made even more beautiful as the sun begins to set, its remaining rays reflecting off the buildings’ glass and marble facades.

When Changkyun first arrived in Seoul, this plush stiletto-heeled corner of the city felt untouchable—and it still sends his head spinning when passersby acknowledge him like he actually belongs there existing alongside them. He glances sideways at Hyunwoo as he peruses the fall/winter collections modeled in the glass windows. His boyfriend’s face is serious and thoughtful; he takes pictures every once in a while, most likely to pass along to Spotlight’s wardrobe team.

Autumn brings a certain crispness to the air that feels refreshing, especially after another long day spent cooped up in the studio, and Changkyun itches to link pinkies with his boyfriend as they follow their friends into another store.

“Let me buy you stuff, hyung,” Changkyun murmurs as his eyes jump from cashmere sweaters to wool coats to butter-soft leather jackets—all so different from Hyunwoo’s normal wardrobe of jeans, snapbacks and t-shirts. His boyfriend deserves to wear something nice—and Changkyun is more than happy to provide.

“I don’t need anything. Besides this would look so cute on you,” Hyunwoo counters as he holds up a black bomber jacket.

“Cute?” Changkyun scoffs. “This jacket is 1 million won, hyung.”

Hyunwoo shrugs and holds it open for Changkyun to try on. After a few minutes of futile protesting Changkyun slips it on and glances at his reflection—and he unfortunately instantly falls in love. Damn.

“I’m supposed to be buying you stuff,” Changkyun mutters as he runs fingers over the material, not quite ready to concede. “ All you own are white t-shirts and ripped jeans.”

Hyunwoo folds his arms over his chest and huffs. “All you wear are sweatshirts. It’s getting colder and I want you to stay warm.”

“I like my sweatshirts,” Changkyun sniffs petulantly and juts out his bottom lip. “Let me spoil you, Hyunwoo.”

“Well, I want to spoil _you_. You’re my boyfriend,” Hyunwoo says quietly and they both break out into stupidly fond grins, the petty argument already forgotten. Changkyun feels giddy, smiling so widely that his cheeks actually feel sore—and Hyunwoo looks so warm and _kissable_ that it physically pains him to look away.

“You’re being really obvious, Changkyun,” Jooheon admonishes, his voice low and sharp as he juts his chin in the direction of the windows. “You know how quickly rumors spread. All it takes is one.” 

The warning yanks him back to reality and he feels the cameras aimed on him even before he looks over his shoulder; dozens of fans line the windows, excitedly chatting as they peer through the glass. Changkyun suddenly feels naked. Unprotected and exposed. He swallows hard and stares down at his shoes, silently watching out of the corner of his eye as Hyunwoo buys the jacket.

“You should keep the bag for now,” he mutters under his breath without even glancing up at his boyfriend. Hyunwoo hums in understanding and they walk back out onto the street, keeping more distance between them than before.

“There are people following us,” Hyunwoo murmurs.

“Try to ignore them.” Changkyun feels boxed in, claustrophobic; he wishes that he could touch his boyfriend in some way. The urge to scream is so intense that he shoves in his AirPods and listens to music to drown out the internal chaos.

Apgujeong is home to a few high-end movie theaters, including the multiplex in a shiny high-rise that seems to loom over them as they walk through the doors, leaving the crowd of fans behind. Changkyun can’t help but deflate a little as the tension slowly seeps from his muscles, leaving him exhausted. They nab seats toward the top of the theater and watch _Parasite_ , an art house satirical thriller that Changkyun probably would be enjoying a lot more if he was actually paying attention to it—but Hyunwoo is distracting.

Color and light from the screen throw his features into contrast, and Changkyun watches as Hyunwoo’s face crimps in thought then concern for the characters and their plight, before his eyes begin to crinkle and surprised laughter rumbles out of him. _Beautiful_ , Changkyun thinks as he peeks at him again, more entranced by his boyfriend than the movie that continues to play. Hyunwoo catches him staring and his eyebrows arch, amused, as he silently asks, _what?_

Changkyun should probably feel embarrassed at being caught, but his boyfriend is looking at him fondly, smiling in a way that softens his whole face—and Changkyun is a weak man. He laces their fingers together and flicks his eyes back up to meet his boyfriend’s. Hyunwoo glances around the theater as the screen fades to black, then he leans over and kisses Changkyun so gently that he actually groans quietly with relief. 

Changkyun hides his grin against Hyunwoo’s shoulder for a long moment then forces himself to face forward the rest of the movie, his body still humming hours later, long after they’ve said goodnight.

/

“Okay. Now run your fingers down your torso,” Hyungwon coaches from the front of the dance studio. Casually, with hands on hips and his longish hair pulled back out of his eyes, Hyungwon walks around them, studying their movements from every angle. With a quiet voice, the choreographer offers adjustments whenever necessary, but for the most part he encourages the artists to feel the music and work off each other as they perfect the dance routine.

Hyungwon has been practically vibrating with excitement since the moment Changkyun, Jooheon and Minhyuk walked into the dance studio; he started the morning with an enthusiastic pep talk that included some confetti that he pulled out of his pockets and threw high into the air only to have it all land with a soft plop onto the floor.

“Okay! One more time,” Hyungwon bellows as he starts the song over. “The world is _not_ ready for this choreo!”

Hyungwon really outdid himself this time; the choreo is sexy without being lewd, and adding Minhyuk into the stage performance has forced the rappers to change their routine, mix it up and innovate, pushing themselves to become even better performers.

“Okay, ten minute break!” Hyungwon announces after they finish dancing the entire routine near flawlessly. 

Changkyun grabs his water and sinks to the wooden floor; his shirt is soaked with sweat, uncomfortable as it sticks to his skin. Hyungwon throws him a towel and sits next to him, leaning back on his hands. “How do you feel about the choreo?” he asks conversationally.

Changkyun swallows a gulp of water and wipes away the sweat glistening on his forehead and neck. “I like it, hyung. Fits the song’s vibe and it’s definitely sexy.”

Hyungwon grins. “You have all the moves down, Kyun, but,” he pauses and purses his lips in thought, “it seems almost as if you’re holding yourself back.”

Changkyun hums, trying not to sound too dejected; the routine isn’t technically difficult, but he agrees with Hyungwon—there is definitely something lacking in his performance compared to Jooheon and Minhyuk. Apart from the fact that they are a couple, Jooheon and Minhyuk seem to ooze a natural confidence and sex appeal that Changkyun feels like he’s merely approximating. “Okay, hyung. I think I’ll stay after and practice more.”

Hyungwon nods and squeezes his shoulder, then they get back to work. Another hour passes before practice is over for the day. They all high-five each other and Changkyun stays behind, waving goodbye to the others.

“I’ll see you at the meeting later,” Jooheon says as he closes the door.

Changkyun sighs and throws the towel onto the chair near the sound system; he stretches his neck, closes his eyes to refocus, then presses play. 

Halfway through the sixth or seventh song playback, Hyunwoo slips into the studio with coffee and stands off to the side, watching quietly as Changkyun runs through the last part of the routine. At this point, his movements are a bit tired and sloppy—mostly due to his mounting frustration with himself. 

“Hey, baby,” Changkyun greets after he turns off the music, pleasantly surprised to see his boyfriend. Usually Hyunwoo is on location during the day, so it’s pretty rare to see him at Spotlight’s corporate office.

“Hi,” Hyunwoo murmurs as he wraps him in a hug and kisses him, apparently not minding the sweat running down his temple. Hyunwoo smells warm and clean; cozy. After a long, frustrating day it feels so good to be held. “Thought you would like some coffee.”

“Thank you.” Changkyun takes a sip of the iced americano and fights the urge to moan; it tastes bold and crisp, perfect after hours on his feet. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Coordinating with wardrobe for your comeback,” he answers with a shy smile, “and I missed you.”

“You see me all the time,” Changkyun mumbles, equally shy as he bites back a smile. He pokes Hyunwoo in the stomach and asks, “Am I going to look good?”

“Of course,” he answers simply as he presses another soft kiss to Changkyun’s lips, giving nothing away. “You’ll find out next week when you take the concept photos. Bora-noona made me promise not to tell.”

“Fine,” Changkyun concedes with a small pout. “Can you tape me dancing the new choreo so I can review it? Hyungwon-hyung said something about my expression not really matching the movements.” Granted, Changkyun could have recorded himself, but performing in front of an audience sparks something in his gut, pushing him to work harder. Be better.

“Sure,” Hyunwoo agrees as he pulls out his phone to record.

Changkyun runs through the routine, his movements technically perfect but his eyes are dark and hard like obsidian. Disconnected. Hyunwoo watches him over the phone screen, brown eyes serious as he studies Changkyun’s movements. As the song fades out, he hums. “I think I know what’s going on.”

He stands behind Changkyun and takes his hand, placing it under his own. “You’re touching yourself,” he says quietly and both their gazes are fixed on the mirror, eyes intently following their hands as they travel over Changkyun’s body, “but you’re not allowing yourself to actually feel it. You’re overthinking your movements.”

Ripples of liquid heat trail their laced fingers and begin to pool low and warm in Changkyun’s stomach. He sinks back against Hyunwoo’s chest and closes his eyes against the overhead lights; without his sense of sight, other sensations are heightened. The sound of the rain as it begins to pelt against the windows. Hyunwoo’s hand guiding his fingers down to his inner thigh. Hyunwoo’s hot breath on his neck right before he kisses the skin there. 

“I don’t think this is in the choreo,” Changkyun purrs, his lips curling into a smirk and his half-lidded eyes glittering darkly.

Hyunwoo grins sheepishly, ears tinged red as he pulls away his hand. “I may have improvised a little.”

Changkyun huffs out a laugh that fades into a groan. He plops down onto the floor and traces the grain in the wood with his finger. “Everything feels different now,” he confides. The lyrics aren’t written for some unknown somebody from a distant memory; they’re written for Hyunwoo, his boyfriend—and he will do anything to protect him, even to the detriment of his performance. “What if my eyes give everything away and everyone knows that we’re dating as soon as I step foot on stage? The lyrics, the music—it’s real this time, hyung.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about that too,” Hyunwoo admits quietly as he sits down next to him on the floor. “What if I look at you a certain way and the other staff figures it out? Kihyun has already caught me staring at your butt. I thought he was going to burn holes through my head,” he says with a shiver.

Changkyun cracks a smile, imagining his overprotective manager’s haughty glare aimed at his poor, unsuspecting boyfriend.

“Hey,” Hyunwoo’s voice cuts through the mess of worry swirling around in his head, “channeling all that into your eyes and expression is part of being a good performer. And you’re not just good, Kyun. You’re the best.”

Changkyun huffs fondly and can’t help but roll his eyes in faux exasperation, his head clearing as some of the heaviness and uncertainty bleed away. “Can you film me again?”

Hyunwoo nods. “I’m right here,” he reassures as he walks to stand in front of the mirror again, filming with his phone. “Perform like it’s only for me.”

When Changkyun starts the song over he already feels different, more connected to the lyrics. Confident. He’s not _trying_ to be sexy as he drags his hand over his hipbone, fingertips hooking on the hem of his shirt to flash a sliver of skin before grazing over his collarbones to his neck.

Changkyun wants Hyunwoo’s eyes on him as he squeezes his throat lightly, lips parting in a silent moan—he wants his boyfriend’s hands to touch him, warm fingers pressing into his skin. He wants to feel his boyfriend’s body against his, feel those strong thighs quiver under his fingertips, and kiss him until they are both breathless.

 _Come on, baby, hold me tight. Call out my name when I touch you just right_ —

His voice is deep and sensual as it scrapes through the speakers and something flickers in Hyunwoo’s warm gaze as he abandons the phone and comes to stand behind him again that makes Changkyun’s stomach swoop hotly.

“Are you my backup dancer now?” he teases, smirking as he holds Hyunwoo’s dark eyes in the mirror. “You’re supposed to be taping me.”

“Later,” Hyunwoo mutters distractedly before he presses a kiss to Changkyun’s shoulder, then another under his ear, warm lips against hot skin. “You’re sexy without even trying,” he continues, his voice low and filled with so much want that Changkyun feels a dull throb in his groin.

Anyone could walk in, anyone could easily see them through the window in the door, but Changkyun doesn’t care as he turns around in Hyunwoo’s hold and kisses him. His head feels fuzzy as he loses himself in the feel of Hyunwoo’s warm mouth opening under his own, their tongues sliding together; the kiss is slow and deep, and there’s just enough desperation that Changkyun feels something hot begin to build under his skin.

“Come to the studio,” he breathes against his boyfriend’s lips. Fuck moving slow; he wants to finally see his boyfriend naked. He wants to kiss the hair below his navel, explore him and discover every sweet spot. He wants to fuck him, and ride him, and make love to him—

“I can’t,” Hyunwoo groans a touch breathless as he rests his forehead against Changkyun’s, his boyfriend’s fingers still playing with the hem of his shirt, so close to actually touching him. “Minhyuk has a photo shoot this afternoon.”

Changkyun is caught somewhere between laughing and screaming, so he resorts to his secret weapon: pouting.

“Don’t be upset, baby,” Hyunwoo murmurs tenderly between soft kisses and Changkyun can’t help but melt against him, burrowing his face into his boyfriend’s neck and staying there until their schedules force them apart.

/

Ever since Changkyun and Jooheon became friends, they’ve celebrated their birthdays together. Between traveling, performances, and interviews, they have always created time and space for their ritual, this year notwithstanding. A small group of Jooheon’s friends are gathered for his birthday, crowded into a private room at the noraebang, loud and jovial, tipsy from the endless shots of soju being poured earlier throughout dinner.

Kihyun—who had initially protested celebrating so close to comeback season—practically tears off his jacket and throws it onto the couch, inebriated flush high on his cheeks, and grabs the microphone first. Soon the room is dark except for kitschy disco lights and Kihyun is living out his dream of becoming an idol by belting out high notes over the shitty speakers. He slurps down another shot and starts grinding his hips in his best impersonation of Rain’s “Hip Song” dance, making Hyungwon laugh so hard that he actually falls to the floor. 

Hoseok giggles and snaps a picture of the choreographer before carefully stepping over him to take a picture of Jooheon and Minhyuk snuggling together on the couch, recording memories of the group’s night out together. Hyunwoo offers a hand to Hyungwon and pulls him up before sidling up next to Changkyun on the couch. 

“You going to sing?” he asks, mouth warm against Changkyun’s ear. There’s a buzzing tension whenever they’re together now, crackling and electric; it seems to hook into Changkyun’s stomach and _pull_ each time Hyunwoo’s lips graze his skin or his fingers play with the rips in Changkyun’s jeans, just shy of actually touching him. 

Changkyun pretends to muse over the question. “Only if forced.” 

Hoseok spots them pressed into each other’s sides and holds up his phone, motioning for them to smile. “Cute,” he coos with a soft smile. 

As the night goes on, Hyunwoo’s cheeks become pinker from the alcohol. “You smell good,” he giggles as he noses at Changkyun’s neck.

Changkyun doesn’t know what the hell his boyfriend is talking about, but he giggles anyway and kisses his flushed cheek, which somehow leads to Hyunwoo pulling aside Changkyun’s sweatshirt to mouth at his neck and collarbones. Changkyun’s eyes fall shut and he hopes that everyone else is either too drunk or too distracted to notice them.

Then he hears the first few low filthy beats of the next song and his eyes fly open to find Hyungwon with the microphone jumping and stretching, hyping up the room as the intro to “Sambakja”—one of Shadow Crew’s earlier title tracks—blasts from the speakers. 

“You can’t choose a Shadow Crew song!” Changkyun yells out to a round of boos.

Hyungwon immediately waves off his comment. “I’m gonna kill it this time.”

By the middle of the song, Jooheon is jumping around the room hyping him up, mouthing the lyrics with a proud smile on his face. Hyungwon screams the last few words then collapses to the ground, breathing hard.

“I’m done for the night,” he groans dramatically as he flops down onto the sofa, flush high on his cheeks and a satisfied smile tugging at his lips.

“You should sing next, Hyunwoo-hyung!” Minhyuk practically screeches, the alcohol clearly affecting him and his volume control.

Hyunwoo tries to protest, but Jooheon joins Minhyuk in encouraging him. He rolls his eyes and belts out a couple lines from a pop song, his voice rising high and off-key until his voice cracks, and the room laughs. “I don’t want to hurt your ears.” 

“You should try to sing again, Hyunwoo,” Hoseok interjects softly. “Please.”

Hyunwoo’s expression immediately changes, sobering as he stares at Hoseok’s serious face. After a few long seconds he turns to Changkyun and raises his eyebrows. Changkyun nods, gently encouraging him. “Only if you want to, hyung.”

Hyunwoo rolls his shoulders, picks out an older OST ballad, “Now I Know,” then he raises the microphone to his lips. 

The instrumental itself is pretty and melodic, but nothing prepares Changkyun to hear Hyunwoo sing again. Even with the tinny speakers, Hyunwoo’s voice is beautiful, even more beautiful than Changkyun remembers from their trainee days. Smooth and velvety, it seems to wrap around Changkyun like a warm blanket, comforting him in ways he didn’t know he needed; hearing him sing feels like returning home after months away, like a salve for bruised pieces of his heart.

Hyunwoo closes his eyes for a moment then opens them again, pinning Changkyun to his seat; his eyes are glittery and soulful, just like how they used to be when they recorded late at night in the studio. Changkyun feels goosebumps rise on his skin and his chest aches with memories and impressions of a future that never came to pass.

The room settles into hushed silence and even without looking around, Changkyun knows that they’re all just as arrested by Hyunwoo as himself. It isn’t long before Hyunwoo’s voice fades away with the song, leaving an absence of sound as he hands the microphone over to Minhyuk, who is staring up at him with wide eyes. 

“I think I killed the mood,” Hyunwoo murmurs as he sits down again, shrugging his shoulders with a sheepish smile.

It takes Changkyun a moment to even speak. “Sing on one of my songs.”

Hyunwoo’s eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“I want you to feature on one of my songs. Your voice, hyung—” words fail him; all adjectives fall flat in comparison to a voice that somehow simultaneously sends him soaring to heaven and drags him down to hell. 

“Ah,” Hyunwoo smiles shyly as understanding dawns in his eyes and he shakes his head. “I love singing, but I’m not an idol, Changkyun. That’s a piece of my life that needs to stay in the past,” he explains softly as he reaches out to rub his thumb over Changkyun’s knuckles, “but I’ll sing for you, baby. Whenever you want.”

/

Radio interviews and variety shows play an essential role in an idol’s career during comeback season; even before they perform on music shows, they begin promotions. Even though this is technically Shadow Crew’s comeback, Minhyuk joins them as they promote; naturally charismatic and funny, he bears the bulk of the entertainment expected by networks and fans alike—and he does so with enthusiasm. 

Kihyun preps them backstage as Hyunwoo finishes their makeup and the stylists finalize their accessories.

Changkyun, Jooheon and Minhyuk have been in the industry for so long that filming variety shows is second-nature at this point. They are pre-taping the show and for the most part it runs smoothly; they dance, sing, entertain. Then they discuss the title track, the mini-album’s b-sides, and of course Changkyun’s least favorite part—the aegyo competition. Jooheon wins. 

Then the hosts move on to more personal questions.

“Who wrote the lyrics? Joohoney?”

“I did,” Jooheon answers with a dimpled grin as he raises his hand. “And of course, I.M did too.”

“You tend to write lyrics about love—” the host continues and Changkyun feels panic begin to creep up his neck, “—are you writing these songs to anyone in particular?”

Changkyun glances sideways at Jooheon’s profile and watches as he clenches his jaw just slightly before answering with an easy grin, “Well, of course, the songs are for our fans.”

Yes, that’s the correct answer—or at least what they’ve been taught to say since trainee days. Changkyun tries to smile, but it feels more like a strained grimace.

The host and hostess glance at each other and shoot the camera incredulous looks. “You’re not dating _anyone_?”

Jooheon and Minhyuk shake their heads emphatically with forced laughter. _Of course not!_

Then the hosts pin Changkyun in place and his heart rate spikes. “You’re not dating anyone, I.M?”

Changkyun licks his lips; he’s answered this question so many times before, usually saying something cute and sappy about his fans. But he feels Hyunwoo watching the exchange from backstage and it binds his tongue to his heart.

 _No!_ he wants to huff playfully and wave off the question with an easy smile; he wants to feed them the only acceptable answer in an industry that demands idols be perfect and sterile—lonely and isolated and untouched—yet continue to ooze sex appeal on stage. 

“No,” he answers quietly; the word tastes heavy and metallic on his tongue. “I’m not dating anyone.”

Aloof and disinterested, Changkyun fades to the background while his hyungs continue to shine in front of the camera, and he half-heartedly finishes filming the rest of the show. 

“You have to learn how to control your face, Kyun,” Jooheon says quietly, bumping his shoulder as they walk backstage. “The first few interviews are the hardest, but it will get easier.”

“How do you do it, hyung?” Changkyun barely survived answering one pointed question and he still has three more weeks packed with interviews until comeback season is over.

“Practice,” Jooheon answers simply.

Kihyun chats with Jooheon and Minhyuk as they gather up bags, water bottles and snacks, preparing to leave for a scheduled radio interview, but Changkyun holds back, feeling strangely numb and detached.

“You did really well, Kyun,” Hyunwoo says as he touches his cheek lightly, breaking through the grey fog. Changkyun doesn’t have to look up to know that Hyunwoo is smiling warmly; he feels it in the tender thumb grazing his skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers then blinks up.

“Hey,” Hyunwoo says softly, his entire face clouded with concern. “You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”

“I really wish I could hug you right now.”

“I do too, Changkyun,” Hyunwoo sighs and he looks like he wants nothing more than to hold Changkyun in his arms. “Want to come over to my place?” he asks quietly as his eyes flick around the room. “Hoseok will be out pretty late.”

Changkyun instantly perks up. “Will you make me breakfast?” he asks, not exactly hiding the implication.

“Can’t let you go to work hungry,” Hyunwoo answers with a soft smile, the tips of his ears turning red. “Does fried eggs with spam and kimchi sound okay?”

Changkyun nods and grins even wider already anticipating sleeping over at his boyfriend’s apartment.

/

“Did you eat dinner— _oof!_ ” Hyunwoo has barely opened the door when Changkyun jumps on him to kiss him, the bag of takeout swinging from his wrist momentarily forgotten.

“Nope,” he answers as he holds up the bag. “Brought Thai food.”

“Do you want to eat on the balcony?”

They set up outside on the tiny balcony overlooking other buildings and the street below. There’s a park in the distance lined with trees, still mostly green, but Changkyun can imagine watching from this spot above the city as they slowly change to red and gold, how beautiful it would be. They drink beer and talk a little, then let the comfortable silence unfold as they relax, enjoying each other’s company.

They stay outside until the air becomes uncomfortably chilly and once inside, Changkyun realizes that in his excitement to spend the night, he may have forgotten some essentials.

He stands awkwardly in the bathroom doorway, a pair of Hyunwoo’s pajama pants slung low on his hips. “Um, hyung,” he mumbles as he chews on his thumbnail, fighting the urge to fidget.

“I have an extra toothbrush for you,” Hyunwoo offers without meeting his eyes, “and a razor too.” Changkyun realizes as he watches his normally unflappable boyfriend’s neck flush deep red that maybe he’s feeling the same mixture of excitement and anticipation that’s fluttering around in Changkyun’s stomach.

Maybe this is a big deal for him too.

They brush their teeth side by side in the small bathroom and climb into Hyunwoo’s bed. 

“You’re really okay with me denying our relationship?” Changkyun asks as they lie down facing each other. The room is dark except for a small sliver of moonlight and Changkyun’s breath feels staticky in his lungs as he waits for Hyunwoo to answer.

“You’re supposed to deny the relationship, Kyun.” After a long moment of silence, Hyunwoo continues, “Out there, to the rest of the world you’re I.M of Shadow Crew, and you need to do whatever you can to protect that. But in here, you’re my Changkyunnie. My boyfriend. And I’ll do whatever I can to protect _you_.”

“Hyung,” Changkyun groans and playfully punches his boyfriend in the chest, then he snuggles even closer and searches for Hyunwoo’s taste in the dark. They kiss, warm and slow and sweet, until they drift off to sleep. 

Changkyun wakes up alone, but the space next to him is still warm to the touch. Cool air hits his skin as he rolls out of bed and browses through Hyunwoo’s closet. He throws on a random sweatshirt and pads barefoot through the apartment, following the scent of frying eggs and brewing coffee into the tiny sunlit kitchen where Hyunwoo is standing in front of the stove with a spatula in one hand and chopsticks in the other. Changkyun wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and burrows his face into Hyunwoo’s naked back.

“Good morning,” Hyunwoo rumbles fondly, turning around in Changkyun’s embrace to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He hands Changkyun a mug of hot coffee and takes a sip from his own. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Changkyun hums, still sleepy but deeply content as he clasps the mug in both hands and smiles around the rim, savoring the first sip of the bold brew. 

“Me too,” Hyunwoo murmurs with a satisfied smile, his warm eyes crinkling in the corners.

Changkyun is about to roll onto his toes to kiss him again when his stomach decides to growl loudly, interrupting the sweet moment. He makes a small, embarrassed noise and hides his face in his boyfriend’s back again, listening to Hyunwoo’s quiet, endeared chuckle as he finishes plating up breakfast.

They eat breakfast at the bar, both breaking into shy smiles each time they meet eyes; Changkyun knows as Hyunwoo pours him a second cup of coffee which he gratefully accepts that they are both trying to delay the inevitable. They’re so caught up in each other that Changkyun doesn’t hear Hoseok come into the kitchen, and he bangs his knee then almost falls to the floor when the producer quietly wishes them both a good morning.

Hoseok offers him a hand and they talk a little about the comeback as Hyunwoo clears away the plates. 

“Do you want to stop by your apartment before work, Kyun?” Hyunwoo asks.

“I do, but—” he twists his lips in thought, “—I don’t want fans to catch us leaving here together and dropping by my apartment so early in the morning.”

Hyunwoo furrows his brows, thinking quietly.

“I can take you home if you want, Changkyun,” Hoseok offers. “Then we can go to work together, but I want something in return.”

“What?” Changkyun asks when he notices the tell-tale sparkle in his friend’s eyes.

“Let me listen to whatever music I want in the car and you have to sing with me,” he answers with a disarming smile, “with the windows down.”

/

“Half the mini-album was banned by the network,” Kihyun informs the half-asleep rappers in the pre-dawn van ride to the broadcasting station. They both yawn, shrug. It's nothing new; practically every comeback at least one of Shadow Crew’s songs is banned due to content or lyrics. Despite Spotlight’s firm stance that they should censor their lyrics for broadcast, the rappers rarely bend. Even after years navigating the idol industry, they’re both still underground artists at heart.

It’s the first stage of the comeback and everyone is buzzing; as soon as they walk into the makeup and wardrobe room, the artists are whisked away by the stylists. Very different from his usual fashion, Changkyun eyes the wardrobe of delicate lace, rich velvet jackets and suits, but once he’s dressed in a dark plum lace turtleneck, a black suit and silver jewelry, he decides that he loves the concept and wholeheartedly embodies it. Backstage is so familiar—the noise, the adrenaline, assistants rushing around, Kihyun barking orders—and seeing Hyunwoo only heightens the anticipation.

“Hey, Kyun,” Hyunwoo greets with a smile, his eyes snagging on the delicate lace on Changkyun’s neck. “Pretty.” 

After showing Changkyun the products he’s planning to use, they fall into easy conversation, sticking to safe topics.

“How are you feeling about the stage today?” Hyunwoo asks with a small frown as he covers up the dark smudges under Changkyun’s eyes.

Changkyun has learned that this is Hyunwoo’s way of asking if he’s feeling sick or hurt or exhausted without putting him on the spot. “I’m okay,” he answers as he subtly rubs his cheek against Hyunwoo’s hand. “Just a little tired.”

Hyunwoo knits his brows and touches Changkyun’s jaw. “Remember to eat and drink water today. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Before Changkyun has the chance to melt inside, Kihyun interjects, “We need to check I.M’s in-ear and microphone now because the station moved up our filming time. Can you finish Minhyuk’s makeup within the next fifteen minutes or so.”

“Of course,” Hyunwoo answers politely. “I just have to finish I.M’s lips.”

Kihyun hurries off to find Minhyuk who has slipped away with Jooheon, and Changkyun studies himself in the mirror, appreciating the bold dark plum eyeshadow; he feels pretty. Sexy.

“I’ll be watching from backstage,” Hyunwoo murmurs quietly as he brushes something glossy onto his lips. “Good luck, Kyun.”

Even from backstage, the three artists can hear the fans packed into the audience section of the music stage hall. Changkyun, Jooheon and Minhyuk throw their arms around each other and offer words of encouragement before pumping each other up and walking onto the stage to begin filming.

The performance goes smoothly; their fans enthusiastically yell all the fanchants and even though filming is long and exhausting for everyone as they record multiple times for different angles, Changkyun feels a rush of exhilaration as soon as he steps foot onto the stage, exhaustion and sleepless nights in the studio forgotten as he shares time, space and his art with his fans. Music hums under Changkyun’s skin, the low beat throbbing in time with his pulse; he feels confident and sexy—and damn near untouchable on stage. Bright light illuminates his body as he dances and the crowd seems to surge, screaming as he throws his jacket off his shoulders and runs his fingers over the thin lace—but it isn’t the audience’s eyes on him that makes his body feel hot.

Euphoria bubbles inside Changkyun as they leave the stage and high-five each other—he’s so wound tight and intoxicated that when Hyunwoo offers him a towel to wipe his face, he wordlessly weaves his boyfriend through the backstage chaos to a tiny, out of the way closet.

As soon as the closet door closes with a quiet _click_ , Changkyun hooks a finger into one of Hyunwoo’s belt loops and pulls him close. “Did you watch?” he asks, voice still breathless from performing. Sweat dots his skin and he wonders briefly if Hyunwoo will be turned off but he is instead rewarded with a soft kiss on the neck, where the lace neckline meets his skin.

“You looked so good up there, Kyun,” Hyunwoo murmurs, his lips practically kissing Changkyun’s skin again. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Bright light slants in through the gaps around the door, leaving fragments of Hyunwoo’s face in shadow, but Changkyun can see well enough to recognize the want in his boyfriend’s eyes; he can feel it practically vibrating in his taut muscles. Changkyun drags his fingers over Hyunwoo’s broad shoulders to his neck and pulls him down to meet his lips. The kiss is desperate from the start; five years of want mixing with the very real danger of being caught makes something hot burn under his skin. Changkyun nibbles Hyunwoo’s lower lip and his boyfriend readily opens his mouth—and there is a flicker of tongue that makes Changkyun groan, pressing their bodies even closer together.

There are maybe five minutes—probably less—before Kihyun starts looking for them. Making out in a small closet backstage with assistants and other artists right outside the door is downright reckless, but everything outside seems to fall away as Changkyun loses himself in the feeling of Hyunwoo’s warm lips moving with his own and the gentle fingers cradling his jaw. They accidentally bump noses in their enthusiasm and Changkyun can’t help but giggle, briefly forgetting that he’s one of South Korea’s most famous idol rappers; for a fleeting moment he’s just a normal guy in love.

Hyunwoo’s lips are so soft, their kisses hot and deep and languid despite how little time they have. “Do you want to touch me?” Changkyun breathes against his boyfriend’s lips, seeking more. Seeking friction and long overdue relief.  

“Yeah.” Hyunwoo’s voice is low and hushed, and he sounds like he’s never wanted anything as much as he wants to touch Changkyun right now. It’s intoxicating, the way Hyunwoo looks at him with dark intense eyes, but still touches him like he’s precious. Kisses him with so much love that he feels like his heart will overflow.

Hyunwoo’s hand slowly travels down his torso toward his belt, his fingers burning through the gauzy lace, and Changkyun feels his stomach tense and flip in anticipation.

“Baby,” Changkyun groans when Hyunwoo’s fingers dip below his waistband, so close to finally touching him—

_Pound. Pound. Pound._

“Changkyun-ah?” Even muffled by the door, his manager’s voice is testy. “The makeup artist seems to have gone missing. If you see him, could you tell him that he’s needed. Minhyuk’s eyeliner is a goddamn mess.”

“Oh shit,” Changkyun swears between giggles as they run fingers through their messy hair and stuff their shirts back into their pants. “Do you want to come over tonight, hyung?”

“Yeah,” Hyunwoo exhales as he kisses Changkyun again, and there is something heavy in his boyfriend’s gaze that makes his breath catch in his throat. After another long kiss, he mutters, “We should probably leave before we’re both fired.”

Hyunwoo slips out of the closet first and Changkyun waits a few minutes before following, casually bowing his head in greeting as a passing idol shoots him a perplexed look.

Despite his earlier disgruntlement and apparently repeating the same speech to six different utility closets, Kihyun looks pleased when Changkyun walks into the wardrobe room to change back into his street clothes. “I think this is one of the best performances of your career, Changkyun-ah.”

Changkyun grins down at his shoes, feeling his cheeks burn from the compliment, but he can’t help but feel proud.

“I think this year could be the year,” Kihyun confides quietly. “Awards season is coming up and there’s been a lot of positive buzz. I think Shadow Crew could be nominated for a Daesang—and win.”

Changkyun blinks, stunned. While not award-obsessed, he can’t deny that earning a Daesang Award would be a highlight in his career.

“Networks have been requesting Shadow Crew for special extended performances this year,” Kihyun continues as the group walks outside to the awaiting vans. “Get ready. It’s going to be a busy awards season.”

The group splits up; Minhyuk climbs into one van for transport to a photoshoot, while the rappers are transported to Spotlight’s corporate office to work in their studios.

Changkyun pulls up his hoodie and pops in one of his AirPods. “Hyunwoo is coming over tonight. Are you going to be at the apartment?”

“Nah, I’ll be in the studio pretty late then go over to Minhyuk’s,” Jooheon answers as he scrolls through his phone. Then he seems to freeze and he very slowly looks up from his phone with wide eyes. 

Changkyun blinks. “What?”

“Oh!” Jooheon gasps with realization that only makes Changkyun stare at him in bewilderment. “O-kay! You want the sex talk now? Like about protection and stuff?”

“I know how to use protection, Jooheon,” he hisses. “And keep your voice down. Kihyun is right there.”

“Well, do you have lube and stuff?” Jooheon asks in a completely normal voice that makes Changkyun break out into a sweat. “I have a whole drawer full of condoms and lube. Oh, and if you want handcuffs—”

“I have my own stuff, hyung,” he counters urgently, “but thank you.”

Jooheon actually looks offended. “I was just trying to help, _Changkyun_.”

“He’s coming over for dinner, hyung. No one said that he’s going to dick me down tonight.”

“Why else would you ask if the apartment will be empty? I don’t think it’s just _food_ that you’re going to be eating, Changkyun—”

A loud noise of disapproval followed by aggressive throat clearing interrupts them, and both rappers flick their eyes forward, straight into Kihyun’s reproachful frown. “I didn’t hear anything,” their manager says a little too forcefully as he holds up his hands, “but _please_ keep your voices down.” 

“Sorry, hyung,” the rappers apologize in unison and Changkyun is just about to sink back into the seat, relieved and ready to pretend like that conversation never happened, when he hears his manager mutter—

“Really, Changkyun? _Handcuffs?”_

/

“Are you going to help?”

“I’m comfortable right here,” Changkyun replies cheekily as Hyunwoo struggles to move around the kitchen, adding more ingredients to the stir fry sizzling on the stove. Changkyun has been glued to Hyunwoo’s back since he started chopping veggies and rinsing rice an hour ago, hooking his chin onto his boyfriend’s shoulder and playing with the hem of his shirt, his curious fingers dipping under his waistband until Hyunwoo half-heartedly bats them away.

He kisses Hyunwoo’s neck again. There’s something about them cooking together in Changkyun’s kitchen that fills him with a radiating warmth—cozy, comfortable and domestic. He could get used to this.

“You’re making it very difficult to concentrate, Changkyun-ah,” Hyunwoo huffs in exasperation; he’s probably trying to sound tough and annoyed, but he’s just so cute that Changkyun grins and kisses his cheek, not planning to stop distracting him anytime soon.

Miraculously, the stir fry doesn’t burn and they lounge casually, eating at the low table in the living room. 

“It’s really good, hyung.”

“This is all I know how to cook,” Hyunwoo says with a small laugh, “so you’ll probably get sick of it after a while.”

“I won’t get sick of it,” Changkyun protests and shoves his boyfriend in the shoulder—but Hyunwoo calmly continues to eat, not budging or even blinking. Changkyun’s frustrated noises only seem to amuse his boyfriend even more.

“You should give up, Kyun,” Hyunwoo says with a grin, mirth glittering in his eyes. “You’re never going to be able to push me over.”

Changkyun narrows his eyes as he considers his boyfriend’s words. Okay, challenge accepted. “Wanna play video games?”

Twenty minutes later, they’re sprawled on the couch playing against each other.

“What the hell...you’re not even on the map!” Changkyun practically growls. Then he finally spots Hyunwoo’s character floating off in the distance, and he smirks, confidently lining up his shot in the scope—then his own character dies, falling to the ground in agony. He yells in frustration and throws the controller, tackling Hyunwoo onto the couch; he lands on his back with a soft _oof_.

“You cheated!” Changkyun bellows as he straddles his boyfriend and tickles him mercilessly until they’re both breathless from laughing. Their laughter slowly dies away, leaving room for that unnamed tension to crackle between them, sending Changkyun’s stomach swooping. He leans down until their lips practically touch. “I pushed you onto your back, hyung. Do I get a reward?”

“Come here,” Hyunwoo says quietly as their lips touch—

Then his phone starts vibrating against the table, a picture of Hoseok wearing bunny ears lighting up the screen. “Crappy timing, Hoseok,” Hyunwoo groans, but he answers the call anyway, listening intently to whatever Hoseok is saying, his thumb rubbing absentminded circles over Changkyun’s hip. “That’s great! I can go with you to take a look before you sign the paperwork.” Hyunwoo hums as he listens, flicking his eyes to meet Changkyun’s. “I’m with Changkyun now,” another pause, “Okay. Let’s talk about this more tomorrow.”

Changkyun traces his boyfriend’s belly button with his finger. “Is Hoseok-hyung okay?”

Hyunwoo nods. “He’s working on a big project, but it isn’t finalized yet. You’ll be the first to know when he’s ready to announce it.”

Changkyun accepts the answer, eager to get back to where they left off, and they both fall silent as Hyunwoo continues to rub circles over his skin; he’s still sitting on top of his boyfriend, straddling his hips. Hyunwoo’s shirt has ridden up a little, exposing the happy trail below his navel that Changkyun wants to run his tongue over. They’re both completely sober and Changkyun feels a flurry of wispy flutters tickling his rib cage. He realizes with a start that he’s nervous.

“Kyun,” Hyunwoo says softly as if he’s reading his mind. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

Changkyun shakes his head, licks his lips; his mouth suddenly feels parched.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight, Changkyun. You could work or clean the toilet and I’d be just as happy. I just want to spend time with you.”

“That’s weird, hyung,” he mutters, but now he’s grinning, his heart swelling as he leans down to press their lips together. Hyunwoo groans into his mouth, kissing back with a quiet sort of intensity that makes Changkyun melt against him.

Changkyun focuses on the warmth of Hyunwoo’s skin and on the feeling of his fingers and palms, solid and firm on his hips. “Is it okay to touch you?” Hyunwoo asks, voice hushed, his fingers playing with the hem of Changkyun’s shirt.

Changkyun nods and sits up, taking off his shirt and blindly throwing it, then he lies back on the couch, the leather cool against his skin and pulls Hyunwoo down over him. Hyunwoo kisses his jaw and down his neck, his mouth so warm that his kisses seem to linger on Changkyun’s skin.

Hyunwoo’s fingers run over the tattoo on his arm, tracing the swirling waves. “Are you going to get more?”

“Yeah, I’d like to.”

“Maybe you could get some flowers like you had for the _Dazed Korea_ photo shoot. Those would be pretty,” Hyunwoo murmurs as he kisses above Changkyun’s belly button and he pauses as if imagining pink petals blooming on Changkyun’s skin, “but really anything would look pretty on you.”

Changkyun quietly gasps, arching in surprise when he feels Hyunwoo’s tongue wet and soft and hot against the skin below his navel. He pulls his boyfriend back up his body and soon they’re kissing again, but that doesn’t prepare him for the slow grind of their hips that makes him feel like he’ll shiver out of his skin.

“More, baby.” Changkyun’s deep voice edges on desperate. “Please touch me.”

“How?” Hyunwoo breathes, lifting his eyes to meet Changkyun’s gaze.

Instead of answering, Changkyun sits up and tugs at his boyfriend’s wrist, leading him to the bedroom. He kicks the door closed and he pushes Hyunwoo against it, kissing him hard and deep, then leaving him dazed as he sits on the edge of the bed. Hyunwoo watches as he slowly kicks off his pants, now naked except for thin boxer briefs.

“Hurry up,” he huffs when Hyunwoo doesn’t make any movements toward the bed.

“Cute,” Hyunwoo snorts softly, not bothering to hide his fond grin as he takes off his shirt and finally moves, playfully tackling Changkyun onto the bed. Hyunwoo pins him down and Changkyun bites his shoulder, making him cry out in fake pain. “Okay, not cute. Vicious,” he laughs, but there is something tender and serious burning in his gaze. “I was just taking my time, baby. We have all night.”

And it’s true—Changkyun realizes—this doesn’t have to be a quick fuck followed by a 3 am walk of shame. Changkyun can be loud and obnoxious and demanding, and not worry about finding a video of himself all over the internet the next morning; he can also be soft and open and intimate, trusting Hyunwoo with these vulnerable pieces of himself that he rarely feels safe enough to show.

Pressed against Hyunwoo’s body, he feels secure and anchored, free to explore—to be himself.

Hyunwoo leans down to press their lips together and Changkyun meets him halfway. His boyfriend kisses him thoroughly, soft and patient, like he’s focused on nothing other than Changkyun and slowly taking him apart. He groans against Hyunwoo’s lips as their hips grind together, now fully naked, hot skin against skin.

“Just like this,” he urges as Hyunwoo moves his hips again. He already feels hazy and on his way to fucked out and they still haven’t done anything more than kissing yet. Changkyun knows that they have all night, but his breath stutters when he feels his boyfriend hot and hard against his thigh, burning for friction. 

“Baby,” Hyunwoo gasps brokenly against Changkyun’s lips as he runs his hands over Changkyun’s naked body; they continue to roll their hips with intention and there is a question burning in his eyes that Changkyun readily answers.

“I want more, Hyunwoo. I'm ready,” he whispers hotly into his boyfriend’s ear, smiling when he feels him shiver. _Kiss me, love me, touch me, fuck me—_

“Do you want to top or bottom, gorgeous?” Hyunwoo murmurs as he kisses Changkyun’s jaw, teeth grazing over the skin, sending sparks through his gut.

Hyunwoo continues to kiss down his body and it takes Changkyun a minute to think past the hot static under his skin and the shallow mess of his breathing. Images flash through his mind: Hyunwoo wrapped around him, hot and tight, riding him. His boyfriend’s fingers and his tongue inside him. He wants to feel everything, he wants to experience it all.

“I want you to fuck me tonight,” he breathes out as he looks down his body to where Hyunwoo is pressing hot kisses to his inner thigh.

“Can I bottom next time?”

“Next time,” Changkyun agrees, swallowing a needy noise and his legs naturally spreading when he hears Hyunwoo pop open the lube bottle. Breathy noises escape him and his stomach flutters and tenses with each kiss pressed to his pelvis, then Hyunwoo’s mouth moves lower. Changkyun’s breath hitches and his back arches off the bed when Hyunwoo’s tongue touches him. Slowly, tenderly his boyfriend eats him out until he’s tense and gasping, his fingers curled into the sheets.

“More, baby,” he whispers hoarsely. “Please.”

Then Hyunwoo adds a finger alongside his tongue and Changkyun swallows a low groan.

Soon he’s grinding down, pushing himself back onto two and then three fingers; Hyunwoo’s fingers feel so different from his own—a little thicker as they curl inside him, making him shiver.

“I’m ready,” he sighs brokenly when his thighs begin to tremble. “I want to ride you.”

Hyunwoo scoots back on the bed and Changkyun can’t help but stare. Sweat glistens on his boyfriend’s collarbones, and his muscles are pulled taut, defined and strong, and yet delicately quivering. His eyes are dark and molten and so full of love that Changkyun’s chest heaves.

“You look so good like this, Hyunwoo,” he says as he straddles his strong thighs. “Ready for me, aren’t you baby? You want to fuck me hard, fill me up, touch me right—”

“Those sound like song lyrics,” Hyunwoo snorts softly with a fond smile tugging at his lips.

“Maybe they are.”

“I’ve always wanted a love song dedicated to me.” Hyunwoo actually has the audacity to chuckle, but then his eyes turn earnest as he rolls on a condom and lines himself up. “Do you still want this?” he checks again, his words serious and reverent.

Changkyun nods impatiently and is about to say something bratty, but Hyunwoo shuts him up as he pushes in slowly, his thighs twitching with restraint—and Changkyun gasps quietly then pushes down the rest of the way.

Hyunwoo is utterly intoxicating—with his hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes hazy and hooded and cheeks flushed. Changkyun mouths down Hyunwoo’s neck and runs a palm over his chest, pinching his nipple experimentally, a thrill of pleasure coursing through him when he hears his boyfriend’s breath hitch.

Hyunwoo’s hands seem to touch him everywhere, dragging up his spine and over his sides; Changkyun searches for his lips through the haze, their kisses slowly becoming rougher. Messier. Hyunwoo breaks away to press his hot mouth to Changkyun’s jaw, then he moves lower, kissing down his neck until he hits a spot that makes Changkyun let out a soft moan.

“You like that?” Hyunwoo checks before sucking on the sweet spot again, a little harder this time.

“Yeah,” he breathes and runs his fingers through Hyunwoo’s hair, holding his head in place, shamelessly encouraging him to leave a mark. _Hyunwoo will have to cover it up for filming tomorrow_ , he realizes with a delirious sense of satisfaction and just the thought alone spurs him on.

“You’re breathtaking, Changkyun. How did I get so lucky?” Hyunwoo grits out quietly, looking at him with such raw, uncomplicated affection that Changkyun feels like his heart will burst. The attention makes his cheeks burn and he knows that he probably looks similar to Hyunwoo—face flushed, skin salty and hair plastered to his forehead—but out of all the countless moments they’ve spent together over the past several months, this is the prettiest he’s ever felt.

“Doing okay? Close, baby?” Changkyun checks with his boyfriend who is making little breathy sounds against the rapper’s neck and collarbones.

Hyunwoo nods, a little wrinkle forming between his brows as his eyes close. “You feel so good, Kyun,” he says, his voice dropping low. “Don’t know how much longer I’ll last.”

Pleasure builds slowly as a dull ache in Changkyun’s bones that licks up his spine until his body is hot and shivery and almost overwhelmed. He doesn’t want the sensations to end—the warmth of Hyunwoo’s mouth, the wetness of his tongue, all bringing Changkyun closer to the edge. Between kisses, he watches his boyfriend’s face, noting how his eyebrows twitch and his lips part around quiet gasps, all signaling that he’s enjoying this as much as Changkyun. 

Then Changkyun moves a certain way that wrenches a soft needy whine out of his boyfriend’s throat. Each tremor that runs through him accompanies a low stream of filthy words that he presses into Changkyun’s hot skin, spurring him on, encouraging him to do it again, and again.

Too soon, he feels his muscles tensing and trembling as everything inside him bubbles up, white and hot; he moves faster, sloppier, just trying to ease the fire under his skin, and Hyunwoo’s hand roams down between their bodies to wrap around him, his other arm solid around his torso, holding him as he whispers praises low in his ear.

Changkyun breathes hard against Hyunwoo’s throat and he knows distantly that his nails are probably digging into his skin leaving divots as he tries to steady himself, but he’s shaking and hot and too far gone, closing his eyes when he feels Hyunwoo tense and shudder underneath him. Then he sucks in a stuttery breath and cries out quietly as ripples of pleasure pull him apart at the seams. 

Hyunwoo holds him through the aftershocks, scattering gentle kisses over his forehead and cheeks until his muscles stop twitching. “We should shower, babe,” he murmurs once Changkyun’s breathing returns to normal.

“No,” he mutters as his eyelids grow too heavy to keep open. “Sleepy.”

“Okay,” Hyunwoo chuckles and settles Changkyun onto the sheets, coming back a few minutes later to clean him with a warm cloth. Changkyun snuggles into his boyfriend’s chest and only then does he notice all the red scratches marring Hyunwoo’s tan skin.

“Do they hurt?” Changkyun asks as he runs a finger over the bite marks he left on Hyunwoo’s shoulder and neck; those won’t be easy to cover in the morning.

“No. I kinda like it,” Hyunwoo says with a crooked grin. He stretches to turn off the bedside light, then they reach for each other in the dark, tangling together under the covers. Changkyun should probably feel sheepish, but his heart squeezes with so much affection and love that he makes a happy noise instead and melts against his boyfriend’s body.

“Can you sing to me, hyung?” he whispers into his boyfriend’s chest, afraid that he has already fallen asleep.

Hyunwoo hugs him close and so quietly it’s almost a whisper, he sings near Changkyun’s ear until they both drift to sleep.

/

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

Groaning, Changkyun searches blindly in the dark as his phone vibrates obnoxiously against the bedside table. Finally he finds it and squints at the screen. Why the hell is Kihyun calling him at just past 5 am?

“Hello?” he croaks, keeping his voice quiet so he doesn’t disturb Hyunwoo, who continues to sleep with a warm palm on Changkyun’s hip.

“Changkyun, this is Kihyun. I’m outside your apartment building in the van,” his manager begins and Changkyun can almost imagine him biting his lip to keep panic from bleeding into his words, but it’s still there anyway crackling over the line. “You need to come to Spotlight immediately. I’ll explain more on the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you feel up to it, please drop me a comment! They mean the world to me!!
> 
> Please take care of yourselves~drink water, eat and rest. These last few weeks have been hard, but we're tough and we'll get through this together. Let's continue to love our boys!! OT7 Forever ♡
> 
> Lots of love to all of you,
> 
> ♡ cupofgenmaicha


	7. Chapter 7

Changkyun’s mind races and he gnaws on his lower lip, watching Hyunwoo continue to sleep unaware, his chest moving slowly with deep, even breaths. Their relationship was exposed—he’s sure of it. Why else would Kihyun sound so close to panic?

Robotically, he throws on a sweatshirt and jeans, and brushes his teeth, then sits on the bed next to his boyfriend, his body creating a little dip in the mattress. A slow, slithering fear creeps down his spine and spreads, numbing everything it touches; his fingers are bloodless and cold, and he almost says _fuck it_ , just so he can crawl under the covers to sleep in his boyfriend’s arms.

But that would only delay the inevitable.

“Hyunwoo,” he whispers as he reaches out to touch his boyfriend’s cheek, caught between wanting his boyfriend to awaken, somehow immediately understanding that something is wrong, and wanting him to continue to sleep deeply, dreamlessly, unaware of the looming nightmare.

Hyunwoo hums and blinks open sleepy eyes. “Why are you out of bed, Kyun?”

“Kihyun called. I have to go to Spotlight right now.”

Alarm flickers over his boyfriend’s face and he shifts to sit up. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No,” Changkyun says with a small shake of his head and he places a reassuring palm on his boyfriend’s chest. “Stay here and rest. I’ll call you later when I know more.”

“Okay,” he agrees, face crimped with concern but he mercifully doesn’t argue. “I love you, Kyun.”

Changkyun’s chest squeezes and he leans down to press a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “Love you too, Hyunwoo.”

He lingers in the doorway, then forces himself to leave. _It could have to do with the comeback_ , Changkyun tries to reason on the seemingly endless elevator ride down. He catches his reflection in the mirrored elevator walls; it’s distorted, rippled. He looks exhausted, his eyes darting around as he chews his thumbnail down to the quick.

Uncomfortably cold, humid air hits him as he leaves the apartment building and he shivers uncontrollably until he’s inside the van. As soon as he sees Kihyun, he knows that this has nothing to do with the comeback. Kihyun doesn’t start talking right away and every second that Changkyun waits, staring out the foggy window at the sleeping city, he feels a new hole punched through his stomach.

“Have you looked at your phone yet?” Kihyun’s voice is quiet but it cuts through the tense silence and sends Changkyun’s heart rate spiking.

“No,” he answers.

“Good,” Kihyun mutters with a slow nod. “You shouldn’t look at social media for a while.”

Changkyun wants to scream and shake his manager; he wants to know what the hell is going on, but he swallows the tangle of words and stares out the window, his knee shaking. Waiting.

Kihyun sucks in a deep breath and releases it slowly. “MishMash dropped an article a few hours ago.”

“Shit,” Changkyun swears and closes his eyes, pressing his forehead to the cool window. He holds his breath, waiting for the rest of the news to drop.

“It exposes Jooheon and Minhyuk’s relationship, claiming that they’ve been dating for a few years—”

Changkyun blinks. _Jooheon and Minhyuk?_ He tries to catch up as Kihyun continues to talk—

“Did reporters hack into their phones or their accounts?”

“No,” Kihyun shakes his head and sighs. “They didn’t do anything illegal, just grossly immoral.”

“Those fuckers,” he mutters, seething. How could this happen to Jooheon and Minhyuk? They love each other fiercely, but quietly; privately. Their relationship was already under scrutiny, but there must be something about the article that is hitting a nerve with Spotlight’s upper management. Changkyun’s nails dig into his palm.

Kihyun looks at him with a mixture of compassion and concern. “It isn’t true though,” he enunciates carefully. “It’s merely a rumor based on pictures and some anonymous quotes.”

Chastened, Changkyun licks his lips and nods. “Right.”

“Because if it _is_ true,” Kihyun continues, his voice clear and sharp, “then their contracts will be terminated.”

Uncomfortable silence stretches between them as the van slows to a stop at an eerily quiet intersection. Red seems to fill the otherwise dark city, slashing through the moonless streets. Changkyun glares at Kihyun in silence as his manager’s words sink in, his face a blood red silhouette against the city’s darkness.

“You need to be very careful during this meeting, Changkyun,” Kihyun warns as he worries his lip. “Stay cool-headed. Don’t read the article. Don’t look at the comments.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it, hyung?” Changkyun asks quietly.

Kihyun nods. “Yeah, it’s bad.”

Dread gathers like a slow drip in Changkyun’s veins the rest of the drive to Spotlight’s corporate office and he follows silently behind Kihyun, stopping momentarily outside Manager Kim’s office while an assistant informs the executive that they’re there. Kihyun squeezes Changkyun’s shoulder briefly then they enter through the thick, heavy wood door. It closes with a _thud_ behind them and Changkyun can’t help but feel like he’s entering into a prison cell.

Manager Kim sits behind his expansive wooden desk, dressed in an expensive designer suit. Musky cologne prickles at Changkyun’s nose and he fights the urge to wrinkle it. “You’re here,” the executive states by way of greeting as he flicks his wrist toward the empty chairs. “Sit. Let’s get started.”

As soon as Changkyun sits down, Manager Kim tosses an article in front of him. _Joohoney of Shadow Crew Dating Solo Singer Lee Minhyuk_ , is splashed across the top in bold letters. Changkyun reads through the article carefully; it’s sick, exploitative and voyeuristic, but for the most part true. Pictures of Jooheon and Minhyuk laughing; hugging; briefly linking pinkies. Carefree despite the immense daily stress. Happy.

Changkyun’s stomach churns.

“Did you know about this?” Manager Kim’s cold voice slices through the silence.

Kihyun interjects, “I thought we agreed to not show I.M the article.”

Manager Kim arches an eyebrow and sneers. “No. _You_ said that you didn’t want to upset him.” He settles his unflinching gaze on Changkyun and other than his eyebrow twitching in challenge, the rapper’s face remains carefully blank. This is a test; he can almost feel Kihyun tensing up next to him, silently warning him to stay quiet.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking.” Changkyun hardens his face into a mask. “Manager Yoo informed me about the exposé in the van.”

“And do you believe it?” Manager Kim asks as he casually leans back into his seat and steeples his fingers under his chin. “That they’re in a relationship.”

“I hang out with them all the time,” Changkyun answers evenly. “They’re just friends.”

Manager Kim studies him for a long moment before nodding sharply. “I have already spoken with Joohoney and Minhyuk. They’ve both been strongly advised to publicly deny their relationship and to spend much less time together—” he pauses, watching Changkyun as the words percolate, then he continues, “—if they wish to remain with the company.”

“Since you are with them so often, fans will be looking to you for answers,” Kihyun cuts in and hands him some papers. “We have answers for you to post on all your social media accounts.”

Changkyun swallows a sour laugh as he picks through the printed stock answers. “These don’t sound like me at all,” he says, incredulous.

“Then stay silent,” Manager Kim dismisses him impatiently with a brief wave of his hand, signaling the end of the meeting.

Changkyun rises and bows curtly, following behind Kihyun.

“Interesting how you and Son Hyunwoo-ssi are in a lot of these pictures,” Manager Kim muses, his words like a bullet tearing through Changkyun’s heart. “Do you know how easy it would be to find a new makeup artist?”

“Let’s go, Changkyun,” Kihyun murmurs quietly, tugging firmly at his arm until they’re out of the office and down the hall. “Tonight’s performance has been postponed. The three of you need to act quickly to quash the rumors and put all this behind you—”

“He’s threatening me!” Changkyun practically roars.

“Manager Kim is an asshole,” Kihyun deadpans, “but this is the industry, Changkyun. Whether the article is true or not, artists can _never_ be in a relationship—or their careers are over.”

No matter how truthful, Kihyun’s words spark a simmering indignant anger. “I’m going to work in my studio for a while,” Changkyun mutters and turns around before his manager has the chance to convince him otherwise.

As he passes Jooheon’s studio, a soft glowing light seeps out from under the door and snares his attention. He knocks on the door before entering the passcode and slowly opening it.

Jooheon is sitting lifelessly on the couch, staring blankly at the wall.

“Hey, hyung,” Changkyun mutters as he plops down onto the couch. “This is some bullshit.”

Jooheon nods slowly.

“Honestly, fuck them,” the rapper spits. “Where is Minhyuk-hyung?”

Jooheon blinks and turns to look at him, stress pinching his mouth like he just swallowed something bitter. “Hyunwoo-hyung dropped by looking for you and he invited Minhyuk out for coffee—” he pulls out his phone and shows Changkyun the pictures that Minhyuk has been messaging, ranging from sweet to downright goofy, drawing reluctant grins out of both rappers, “—I think he’s already starting to feel better.”

“Did you explain everything to Hyunwoo yet?”

“No,” Jooheon answers softly. “He didn’t even ask what’s wrong, he just offered to take him out.”

A wave of gratitude washes through Changkyun, radiating out to his fingertips. “That sounds like Hyunwoo.”

Jooheon’s lips twitch then he sinks back into the couch and sighs. “Minhyuk wants to come clean.”

“What?” Changkyun blinks, shocked. “You can’t announce your relationship, hyung. They’ll destroy you.”

Jooheon’s eyes are wet and shiny—and when he smiles it’s so sad and raw that Changkyun’s heart cracks. “They’ve been destroying us for _years_ , Kyun. How would this time be any different?”

“Oh,” Changkyun exhales. “Right.”

“I just want to make music,” Jooheon continues quietly. “The fame, the jewelry, the fashion—it doesn’t mean a whole lot if I’m hiding all the time, you know?”

“Have you read the comments?” Despite Kihyun’s warning, Changkyun briefly scrolled through comments in the van; they range from disgusting to terrifying to mildly optimistic and supportive.

“Yeah,” Jooheon spits out a short, bitter laugh. “Even after all this time, it still doesn’t make sense why my relationship should matter to anyone else.”

They sit in silence; Jooheon’s fingers twitch against his thigh, and Changkyun stares at them, wishing that he could say something—do anything—to help his best friend. He’s never despised something as much as the exposé responsible for tearing apart Jooheon and Minhyuk’s safe space: their relationship.

“I’m so angry, Changkyun,” the rapper says quietly, his voice tight. “I hate them. They invaded our privacy and they dropped this in the middle of the fucking comeback. But—” and he pauses, licks his lips, “—it’s kinda freeing in a way. It’s finally happening, the thing that we’ve been terrified of for so long.”

“Are you really thinking about throwing away all this?” Changkyun asks as he points to the state-of-the-art studio equipment. “Throwing away Shadow Crew?”

 _Throwing_ me _away?_ Changkyun thinks and immediately winces. Angry, confused tears scratch at his eyes, and he squeezes them shut. Jooheon shifts closer and throws a comforting arm around his shoulder. 

“No matter what we decide to do, I don’t want you to suffer because of us, Kyun,” Jooheon says with such sincerity it makes a lump form in Changkyun’s throat. “Whatever the company offers you, take it. I’ll always be your number one fan.”

Changkyun barks out a wet laugh. “I think Hyunwoo would argue with that.” Silence unfolds as he snuggles into his friend and they sit together for possibly the last time in Jooheon’s studio. “Do you really think the company could just drop you after all these years because you’re in a relationship?”

“I’d be shocked if they didn’t—they’ve already threatened us enough times,” he pauses and purses his lips in thought. “Even if we deny our relationship, this will happen again and again—until we’re completely broken apart.”

Changkyun sighs wearily, wishing more than anything that he could provide something other than comfort for his friend; something lasting and permanent, like a second chance. A new beginning. But his hands are bound by an ironclad contract and a deep-rooted fear of everything he’s carefully built collapsing inward, slowly smothering him to death.

Jooheon bumps their shoulders together. “Don’t worry about us, Kyun. We’ll be okay. It’s time to think about what _you_ want.”

/

Time inches forward as Changkyun sits on a knife’s edge, chewing on his thumbnail as he waits. He stares at the half-finished song on the screen in front of him, ignoring the anxiety prickling his neck as something dark and intangible floats on the edge of his vision, just out of sight. 

Since confessing to each other nearly three years ago, Jooheon and Minhyuk have always been careful; they never walk or dine in public without at least one other person accompanying them. They rarely touch. Ironically, the one time the couple threw caution to the wind—at the nightclub in Japan—passed without incident. MishMash didn’t need to publish images from that night though; there are enough other images, enough quotes, enough _truth_ , to set fire to the internet and to Spotlight’s management team—and it needs to be snuffed out immediately to prevent further damage.

A soft knock at the studio door jolts him out of his thoughts. “It’s me, Kyun,” Hyunwoo calls out.

Changkyun opens the door to find his boyfriend dressed casually in an oversized black hoodie, holding a bag of take out in one hand and an iced coffee in the other—and he should let his boyfriend set all the food down, he really should—but Hyunwoo looks so soft and inviting that the rapper practically tackles him in a hug. Puffs of warm air hit Changkyun’s hair as Hyunwoo holds him, surprised laughter rumbling in his chest.

“Have you eaten?” Hyunwoo asks once they’re inside.

Changkyun shakes his head; he hadn’t realized that he was hungry until Hyunwoo opened the containers of hearty galbi stew, the aroma making his stomach growl.

“I heard you took Minhyuk out for coffee,” Changkyun says, fishing out a piece of short rib and popping it into his mouth. “How is he doing?”

“Better,” Hyunwoo answers and his lips curl into a smile. “I think he relished in taking absolutely terrible pictures of me and sharing them with Jooheon.”

“Some of the pics were cute, especially this one,” Changkyun teases as he pokes his cheek and juts out his bottom lip in his best impression of Hyunwoo’s forced aegyo and he laughs when his boyfriend rolls his eyes in exasperation. 

“Not everyone can be naturally adorable like you, Kyun,” he mutters, but there is mirth glittering in his eyes.

Changkyun takes a sip of the iced americano and runs his finger through the condensation gathering on the outside of the cup. “Do you know what happened?” he asks, quietly addressing the unspoken tension.

“Yeah,” Hyunwoo nods. “Minhyuk told me everything.”

Changkyun isn’t surprised. “Did he tell you that they’re thinking about going public with their relationship.”

Hyunwoo hums and eats a spoonful of rice and some radish.

“Do you think they should?” Changkyun asks, feeling the same confusing swirl of emotion that has been plaguing him all morning.

“I think that they’re in love and tired,” Hyunwoo answers with a shrug. “Ultimately, whatever they decide to do will be the best decision for them.”

What would Changkyun do if he were in this situation? What if the headline had read _I.M of Shadow Crew Dating Makeup Artist Son Hyunwoo_? What if there were pictures exposing some of their happiest moments, images splashed all over the internet attracting anonymous vitriol rather than support?

Could he really give up his career to protect their relationship? Anxiety prickles his skin as he finishes the rest of the meal in silence.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Hyunwoo asks as he rubs a comforting thumb over Changkyun’s knuckles.

“Nothing,” he mutters.

Hyunwoo levels him with an incredulous look. “You always pout when you’re thinking.”

“I do not pout,” Changkyun grumbles, biting his lip to keep from pouting, and he settles himself on his boyfriend’s lap, straddling his thighs.

Hyunwoo places warm palms on his sides, heat radiating everywhere he touches, seeping deep into Changkyun’s skin. “Are you thinking about Jooheon and Minhyuk?”

“Not really,” Changkyun murmurs, his eyes following his finger as he draws shapes on his boyfriend’s chest. “If this happened to us, would you still want to deny our relationship?”

Hyunwoo hums, brows drawn together as he considers Changkyun’s words. “If our relationship is exposed, then we would have to make a hard decision,” he reasons quietly as he runs comforting hands up and down Changkyun’s sides. “You are near the peak of your career right now and that’s not something to toss away for a relationship—” Changkyun opens his mouth to protest and Hyunwoo presses a finger lightly to his lips, “—but I also wouldn’t want to break up. I love you, Changkyun,” he says quietly, his gaze piercing and sincere, “and I don’t need any kind of public declaration to know that you love me too.”

“Hyunwoo,” Changkyun chokes out, utterly distressed and undeniably in love as he buries his face into his boyfriend’s neck to muffle the string of soft, adoring noises that follows. Then he searches for his boyfriend’s lips and they kiss, slow and deep and tender, until all he can think about is his boyfriend’s warm mouth opening under his own, and their bodies pressed together.

/

Changkyun is snuggled against Hyunwoo and watching a movie on the couch in his studio when his phone buzzes with a message from Jooheon.

**< From: Honey-hyung>**

_just posted something on insta. you may wanna turn off your notifs._

Changkyun opens Instagram and swears under his breath, turning the phone so Hyunwoo can see the screen. It’s a selfie—clearly taken today and posted moments ago—of Minhyuk and Jooheon snuggling together, with the caption: _I want to be honest with all of you. Minhyuk and I have been dating for almost three years. This has been a very difficult secret to keep. I hope you will continue to support us. Love, Joohoney_

Minhyuk posted something very similar.

“Well, I guess they’ve made their decision,” Changkyun says as he glances at Hyunwoo.

Within minutes his phone is ringing with a call from Kihyun.

 _“Where are you?”_ his manager’s voice edges on panicked.

“I’m in my studio.”

_“Stay there. I’ll be there shortly.”_

The line goes dead and Changkyun groans, throwing his phone on the other end of the couch and settling back against Hyunwoo’s chest.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” he asks as he presses a kiss to the rapper’s hair.

“Nah,” Changkyun answers wearily. “Go home. I don’t know how long this will take.”

They kiss, soft and sweet, then Changkyun is left alone to wait; he paces around the small room, his stomach twisting in knots, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when Kihyun knocks on the studio door.

Stressed is an understatement: Kihyun looks like he’s one breath away from a breakdown. “Jooheon is being destroyed by social media and Minhyuk isn’t faring much better,” Kihyun confides in low tones once inside the studio. A pillar of strength and stability, the manager looks at Changkyun with something rare and unsettling shining in his dark eyes: fear. “They’ve lost their careers—their contracts are already terminated. Within minutes, everything is just gone.”

A sad laugh leaks out of Kihyun and it sounds eerily similar to a sob. He covers his mouth and turns away from the rapper. “I know Jooheon is your friend,” he mutters then turns around to hold Changkyun’s eyes, “but you need to think about yourself now.”

Kihyun’s plea runs through Changkyun’s head on the short, sullen march to Manager Kim’s office. 

“Take a seat, I.M,” Manager Kim demands as soon as the door is closed. “Surely, Manager Yoo has notified you that Joohoney and Minhyuk’s contracts have been terminated.”

Changkyun nods curtly.

“All your joint events have been cancelled. The comeback is cancelled—” Manager Kim throws a thick pile of papers in front of him, “—but the company still sees potential in you. Management has decided to offer you a chance to go solo.”

Changkyun stares down at the contract with a mixture of disbelief, disgust, and worst of all—interest.

“You want a different image? Done. More control over your music? You’ll be the executive producer on all your own tracks.”

Everything Changkyun has been fighting so long for is now presented to him on a shiny silver platter.

“What about Shadow Crew’s songs?” he asks as he flicks his eyes up. “What will happen to them?”

“You could rap Joohoney’s parts,” Manager Kim answers with a casual shrug, “but it really doesn’t matter. Shadow Crew is officially disbanded—it doesn’t exist.”

Changkyun swallows the words and they cut down his throat like shards of glass.

“Of course, to remain with Spotlight, you will also need to release a statement that you had no knowledge of their relationship—and that you disapprove of it,” Manager Kim continues coolly, “that will be instrumental in quelling rumors that you knew they were dating and helped to keep it secret.” 

Disgust is an oily slick sloshing around in Changkyun’s stomach. The company wants him to sell out his friends? “Minhyuk and Jooheon helped build you from nothing.”

“We’re not ‘nothing’ anymore,” Manager Kim replies with a cruel smirk, words grating on Changkyun’s insides like steel wool. “I don’t have much time,” he clips out as he places a red ink pad in front of Changkyun. “Sign the contract and the social media agreement.”

 _Fuck you!_ Changkyun thinks, but responds, “I need time to read through the contract.”

A vein throbs in Manager Kim’s forehead. “Fine,” he agrees, his voice controlled, measured. Dry as timber—one match and everything will go up in flames. “You have twenty-four hours to sign or your contract will be terminated.”

Changkyun leaves the office in a daze, his body numb except for a dull buzzing. Kihyun’s voice sounds distant as he urges the rapper to consider signing the contract.

“I would have to publicly announce that I disapprove of my best friends’ relationship, hyung! That’s bullshit.”

Kihyun pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs wearily. “I know, Changkyun, but this could be the opportunity that you’ve been waiting for. This could open a door to the rest of your life.”

“I need to think, hyung,” he mumbles as he pushes past his manager, suddenly feeling like if he doesn’t leave the building immediately, he’ll suffocate. Cold air stings his cheeks as he leaves the heated building, and a frigid late-autumn wind whips through the streets sending icy needles into Changkyun’s exposed skin. He wraps his arms around himself and walks briskly through Gangnam, the dark block of grey clouds hanging low in the sky reflecting his mood.

Hyungwon always suggests walking as the most effective way to clear his head—and Changkyun takes his friend’s advice now, walking so quickly that his thoughts don’t have a chance to catch up. Once he reaches the river, he stops, his hot breath puffing out into wisps of smoke as he looks out over the steel water. 

The air is heavy with humidity and it sinks under his skin, cooling him to the bone. His future is hanging in the balance and each minute that ticks by is another lost to indecision. _What the hell is he going to do?_

Lost in a thick fog of uncertainty, it takes him a moment to realize that his phone is buzzing against his thigh.

“Have you eaten?” Hyunwoo’s voice rumbles warmly over the phone as soon as Changkyun answers.

Changkyun chuckles, “You just fed me.”

Hyunwoo hums and the sound sends warmth curling in Changkyun’s stomach. “Well, I want to feed you again.”

Twenty minutes later, the taxi drops Changkyun off outside Hyunwoo’s apartment building. Hyunwoo opens the door wearing a chef’s hat and an apron, and Changkyun laughs for the first time all day. Stir fry sizzles on the stove and Changkyun gratefully accepts the beer his boyfriend offers, sitting on one of the stools and watching as Hyunwoo moves around the kitchen.

Hyunwoo sets out dishes of banchan and bowls of stir fry, and they eat in comfortable silence, Changkyun lost in his own thoughts and Hyunwoo diligently offering him more food.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

Changkyun shakes his head as they clear the dishes, feeling tense and exhausted. “I just want to sleep.”

They strip down to their boxers and snuggle under the covers; Hyunwoo holds him and kisses him gently as they lie together in the dark. Changkyun exhales and closes his eyes; cocooned in his boyfriend’s arms, he feels safe. Cherished. Their breathing seems to sync, both their chests moving up and down in unison. Hyunwoo runs a warm palm over his back, along the ridge of his spine; Changkyun doesn’t ask for comfort—he doesn’t say a word—and yet Hyunwoo seems to know exactly what he needs.

Quietly, Changkyun begins to tell Hyunwoo everything, whispering it all into his skin—and his boyfriend listens without interrupting.

“They’re offering me a solo career. I looked at the numbers and I would make a lot, Hyunwoo,” he confides, guilt corroding his heart. “Much more than I do now. I would be set up for the rest of my life.”

Hyunwoo hums, but doesn’t comment—silently encouraging Changkyun to untangle this himself.

“But I would have to publicly erase Jooheon from my professional life—like we’re not best friends—like Shadow Crew never _existed_. I can’t do that,” he spits out angrily. “I hate myself for not ripping up the contract and throwing it into that asshole’s face! This is so fucked up!” Then another thought worms its way into his head, oppressive and insidious. “And what about you?” he asks as he searches for Hyunwoo’s eyes in the dark. “Manager Kim seems all too pleased with the idea of firing you.”

If Changkyun leaves Spotlight, Hyunwoo will surely lose his job in hateful, smug retaliation—but if Changkyun signs the contract, they would have to be careful to never have their relationship exposed or all this pain would amount to nothing.

“No matter what happens, I’ll be fine, baby,” Hyunwoo soothes. “I could always get another job.”

 _Would it be worth it_ , Changkyun thinks, _to give up his career for a taste of freedom? A chance to walk around Seoul holding hands without looking over his shoulder?_

Even in the perfect moonless darkness he can see Hyunwoo clearly: the shy curl of his lips when he smiles; the bunch in his cheeks; the love in his eyes that seems to shine brighter each day. Changkyun snuggles closer and listens to Hyunwoo’s heart beating strong and steady in his chest; every single song he’s written since he was a trainee has been for the man lying next to him. Could he risk shattering their relationship for a chance at winning a Daesang—effectively solidifying his reputation as a rapper and producer in an oversaturated industry—and a taste of a few more years at the top?

“I don’t know what to do, Hyunwoo,” he whispers—and he’s never felt more conflicted or lost.

“You’ll know,” Hyunwoo says softly, “and no matter what you decide, I’ll be here.”

/

Long after Hyunwoo falls asleep with a warm palm resting on Changkyun’s belly, the rapper stares at the wall and thinks—his boyfriend’s deep, even breaths a backtrack to his thoughts. Grey predawn light streaks through the bedroom when Changkyun makes his decision. He calls Kihyun who sounds calm and resolved, like he was expecting to hear from him.

“I’m gonna go now,” Changkyun murmurs to his sleepy boyfriend.

“You made the right decision,” Hyunwoo says with a proud smile and they kiss softly. “See you later tonight. Love you, baby.”

The drive to Spotlight is solemn and Changkyun holds the paperwork in his hands, curling it, then straightening it, staring out the foggy window as the first snow flurry of the season billows weightlessly through the streets.

Manager Kim greets him with smug disregard when he and Kihyun enter the executive office—and it only bolsters Changkyun’s resolve.

“Took you long enough,” the manager sneers when Changkyun hands him the paperwork. He flips through the stack of papers. “These aren’t signed,” he mutters in confusion then he pauses on the final page and glares at the rapper with cool hatred. “What the hell is going on, I.M?”

Changkyun juts his chin in the direction of the note he made to Manager Kim: _Fuck You_ written in big bold permanent letters. “I think that tells you everything,” he quips and then bites his lip to keep from grinning. “I can’t sign something that I don’t believe in. Joohoney and I made a promise to follow each other. If he’s out, then I’m out too.”

Manager Kim shrugs and his indifference would be more convincing if his eyes didn’t hold such fury. “You’ll be replaced—there are dozens of other rappers eager to take your place.”

Changkyun almost laughs. “Happy to give my hoobaes a chance.”

Manager Kim’s eyebrow twitches, then his lips curl into a grin and he starts laughing, the sound maniacal and unsettling. Both Changkyun and Kihyun shift in their seats.

“Fine. That’s fine,” Manager Kim booms with an almost unhinged glee. “We don’t need an artist like _you_ to sign with the company anyway—and now that you’re not part of the Spotlight family, we won’t need Son Hyunwoo as your makeup artist either.”

Changkyun flinches, but keeps his face a mask, not wanting to give Manger Kim the pleasure of knowing how deeply the news pierces. Hyunwoo’s words from earlier run through his head: no matter what happens, we’ll get through it.

He holds on to this mantra as he leaves Manager Kim’s office and opens the door to his studio for the last time. Kihyun hugs him tightly and murmurs a steady stream of comforting words, but he can’t hear anything over the blood roaring in his ears. Soon he’s alone with a cardboard box. He slowly fills it with notebooks and his headphones; pictures of himself with his friends; some birthday gifts and his laptop.

Less than thirty minutes later, the studio is stripped down and ready for the next budding artist—more than five years of his life now sits in a single box. Turning off the lights finalizes his decision, its weight a boulder on his chest as he slowly sinks to the floor in the darkness; without the buzz of electricity, the studio is quiet, and the absence of light is reminiscent of the pitch dark that blots out the world just before dawn.

Panic licks up his spine as reality sets in: he just gave up his one chance to make a name for himself in the music world. Every single door is now closed to him. I.M doesn’t exist anymore.

He’s nothing.

Flames seem to edge around him, circling him, burning his future to the ground.

 _He fucked up_ , he realizes with an almost hysterical hiccuped laugh. A cold sweat breaks out on his forehead and he wipes it away, running shaky fingers through his hair. Maybe he could march back into Manager Kim’s office and place his forehead to the ground, beg forgiveness and plead for another chance?

Shakily he stands and opens the studio door, stopping short when he sees that Kihyun is leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed casually over his chest.

“Hey,” he greets with a small smile as he pushes off the wall. “Are you hungry?”

Changkyun blinks.

“Thought we could eat at one of my favorite restaurants. It’s only a short walk,” Kihyun continues as he plucks the box out of Changkyun’s hands. “I’ll drop this off at your apartment tonight.”

“What about the other artists?” Changkyun asks when he finally finds his voice.

“They can wait,” he answers kindly with a conspiratorial wink.

Kihyun weaves him through Gangnam to a cozy family-owned restaurant on a nondescript street, chattering the entire walk. An elderly woman rises from her stool. “Kihyun-ah!” she greets. “It’s been too long.”

They sit at a table in the corner and the other patrons don’t even glance at them; no one crowds Changkyun at the table. No one calls his name. It’s surreal to sit in public and eat a quiet meal across from Kihyun, not as an artist and his manager, but as friends.

Kihyun shows him pictures of his three small dogs, he talks about his hometown and his family—and Changkyun listens, each new story making him feel a little lighter than before.

“—and what about you and Hyunwoo?” Kihyun asks as they both slurp up the last of their noodles. “Will you go public now that you’re a free agent?”

Changkyun stares at his friend. “You know about us? That we’re in a relationship?”

Now it’s Kihyun’s turn to laugh, a bright, tinkling sound. “Of course I do. I knew the moment you two saw each other again that you were in love—” he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, “—and I thought about how it was just my luck that a fine man like him would already be taken.”

Changkyun barks out a laugh and kicks Kihyun under the table. “He’s mine, hyung.”

Silence gradually settles between them, sobering the moment of levity and Kihyun bites his lip, regarding him with concern shimmering in his eyes. “Why did you do it, Kyun? Why can’t you just stay?”

Changkyun searches for an explanation to ease Kihyun’s worry, to smooth the wrinkles between his brows. He thinks about Jooheon and Minhyuk and their snuffed out careers; Hyunwoo who now faces unemployment just as the doors of opportunity are closing all around them with a thud of finality. Yet underneath his worry and his guilt lies a seed of truth that shines through the dark cloud of fear. 

“I used to be so hungry, hyung—” he shrugs as he thinks back to when a fire used to burn in his gut, his passion for music unbounded, “—and I want that back.”

Kihyun studies him and understanding dawns in his eyes. “Okay,” he accepts with quiet finality, “but I’m really going to miss you, Changkyun.”

/

Devastating does not even come close to describing the first few months following Changkyun’s departure from Spotlight.

With his career prospects completely dismantled and incinerated into a pile of ashes, Changkyun vacillated between feeling restless, hopeless and remorseful. Almost daily he would walk past the Spotlight building, lost and listless. Hyunwoo tried to use his own connections within the industry to secure another job to no avail, returning home with a shrug and a small shake of his head. 

But bright spots punctuated the seemingly endless darkness.

First, Hyungwon brought over soju and convenience store ramyeon. Then Kihyun brought bags of tupperware filled with homemade food, neatly labelled and dated. Soon the visits became more frequent, something to anticipate—and it grew into a weekly Friday night tradition, the seven friends piling into each other’s apartments, eating and drinking—and Changkyun learned how to laugh again.

Shortly after Changkyun’s birthday, he and Hyunwoo moved into their own modest studio apartment to save on rent, while Jooheon moved into Minhyuk’s palatial home. Hoseok gladly jumped on the opportunity to convert Hyunwoo’s newly empty room into a production studio. Now as winter thaws into spring and the last box is emptied and folded for recycling, Changkyun is feeling settled. Content.

And from his career’s ashes has come rebirth—newfound creativity. Changkyun hasn’t been so productive since his underground days, filling page upon page with lyrics and melodies that he layers into songs on Hoseok’s home studio production equipment. Jooheon is slowly writing again too, but in an unexpected turn of events, rather than being shunned, he and Minhyuk are now actively sought out for modeling and magazine interviews—South Korea’s newest power couple.

Hyunwoo brought home potted plants last week after successfully landing a job; it’s temporary and per diem, but at least he has his foot in the door again. Changkyun waters the plants and sets them on the kitchen counter near the window, and searches the living room for his notebook, ready to work on music the rest of the day.

Three sharp raps at the door brings a smile to the rapper’s face and he already knows who is visiting before he opens the door. Kihyun sweeps past him to unload an armful of food into Changkyun’s already packed refrigerator.

“You just brought food yesterday, hyung,” Changkyun mutters as he watches his friend labor to create space on the shelves, “and the day before that.”

“You can never have too much food, Changkyun-ah,” Kihyun responds briskly, his voice muffled by the fridge, and the rapper rolls his eyes affectionately and mumbles his thanks.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Tea would be great.”

Changkyun boils the water and Kihyun asks conversationally about his recent trip home to Gwangju where he brought Hyunwoo with him to meet his parents. Expecting the worst, he was pleasantly surprised by his family’s quiet encouragement and support. The two friends sit on the couch, setting their cups down on the low table. Kihyun tends to avoid talking about Spotlight, sticking to safer topics, but today there is a proud purse to his lips and a sparkle in his eye.

“So,” he begins, “I’ve been receiving a lot of calls about you lately.”

Changkyun stares at his friend. “Calls?”

Kihyun nods, humming. “You apparently have quite a large international fan base, and it only continues to grow as you release new music. Magazines have been calling me. They want to fly you out to Tokyo, Berlin, Los Angeles,” he lists, counting the cities on his fingers. “Interview you.”

Changkyun shrugs, not quite understanding. Sure, Jooheon and Minhyuk have been attracting press lately, but he’s just an unsigned rapper who uploads music onto SoundCloud. “Why?” he asks with narrowed eyes, skepticism evident in his voice.

“You have passionate fans and every interviewer who has called asks the same questions: will I.M ever sign with another entertainment company? What inspires I.M’s lyrics and sound? And—” he pauses for dramatic effect, “—who is the unnamed singer on I.M’s tracks?”

Changkyun immediately shakes his head; he knows exactly where that question is leading and he doesn’t like it. “No. Hyunwoo wants to remain anonymous, that’s why I never named him, and I don’t want to discuss our relationship.”

Although they’re not hiding their relationship, they are both very private. They have no interest in attracting attention or making a statement like Jooheon and Minhyuk.

“I made that clear,” Kihyun assures with a small smile. “Think about it, Changkyun. You never know which doors these opportunities will open to you.”

/

“Come here, honey,” Changkyun coos to the striped kitten, one of two that he’s caring for while Jooheon and Minhyuk vacation in Thailand. The kitten paws at his thigh then climbs up, meowing for Changkyun to pet him. “Your papa and daddy are flying home today.”

Recently Minhyuk has taken up painting and the apartment smells faintly of oil paint and coffee; the once blank, sterile space is now filled with art, ranging from bold, whimsical colors to black and white. Changkyun’s eyes land on a painting of a whale—a kaleidoscope of serene blue against a backdrop of frothy white. Beautiful.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he answers, “Hey, baby.”

“Want to meet at Gravity?” Hyunwoo rumbles warmly over the line. “I’m finished with the job for the day and feel like recording something for the Shadow Dancers channel.”

Changkyun’s lips pull up into a grin. “I’m almost done at Min and Honey’s. I can meet you there in about an hour.”

They hang up and Changkyun kisses the top of the kitten’s head. 

Renting dance studio space at Gravity has been a lifeline for the couple; it provides them with a place to practice dance routines, recording and uploading the videos to their YouTube channel. Hyungwon knows the building’s owner and was instrumental in securing them a rental agreement. Dressed in all black, Hyunwoo is already in the studio connecting his phone to the speakers when Changkyun arrives. His boyfriend glows despite the shitty lighting, his exposed skin sun-kissed from their weekend away at the beach. 

“Ready?” Hyunwoo asks after Changkyun secures his black mask and pulls a hat low over his eyes.

Changkyun nods and they start the music.

A couple hours later they pull down their masks and kiss, sweaty and happy, then collapse to the wooden floor to replay the footage. Changkyun snaps a few selfies and he can’t help but think about the post-dance practice selfies still saved on that old white Samsung phone, buried in a shoebox somewhere in their apartment—and how so much has changed.

Hyunwoo’s phone buzzes with a text and he grins at the screen, then hands it off to Changkyun. It’s a message from Hoseok. Curiously, all it contains is an address on the outskirts of Hongdae.

“What the hell does this mean?”

Hyunwoo smiles cryptically and shrugs. “Let’s go find out.”

“What do you know?” Changkyun needles as he pokes his boyfriend in the stomach, but Hyunwoo’s lips remain sealed the entire subway ride to Hongdae. They walk down a narrow street and stop in front of a run down building, its facade nearly crumbling. Changkyun checks the address again. Huh. “I think this is it.”

Hoseok greets them with a cheerful smile when they knock on the door, and he waves them inside. The interior doesn’t look much better; it’s dark and dingy, and the only usable furniture in the room is one small round table.

“What is going on, hyung?” Changkyun asks as he looks around the room, his eyes landing on discarded filing cabinets and mysterious stains on the ugly blue industrial carpet.

A look passes between Hoseok and Hyunwoo and they both bite back a smile, then Hyunwoo nods to the producer in subtle reassurance.

“This,” Hoseok announces with an air of shy pride as he gestures around the room, “is Bad Rabbit Studios, my new production company.”

Changkyun’s jaw drops. “What? You’re not at Spotlight anymore?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “I officially left last week.”

“Did you know about this?” Changkyun asks as he turns to his boyfriend, whose cheeks bunch up into a wide grin.

“I didn’t want Hyunwoo to say anything until it was finalized,” Hoseok explains with a frantic wave of his hands after Changkyun starts digging his fingers into Hyunwoo’s sides, tickling him mercilessly. “Securing the financing took much longer than I wanted, but this is mine now.”

“You did it, hyung,” Changkyun murmurs in awe. It will take a lot of work to set up the studio, but he can already imagine everything—the computers, the sound booth, the production equipment. “Let’s clean up and haul away some of this junk. We can buy paint and rip up the carpet. I know of a place where we can order some furniture—”

“Actually,” Hoseok interjects quietly and he licks his lips, “I didn’t text you to come help me set up the studio. I’m hoping to sign you as my first artist.”

Changkyun opens his mouth and closes it, unsure that he heard his friend correctly. Hoseok smiles softly and continues, clarifying, “Well, not only you. Jooheon and Minhyuk will arrive here later to sign their contracts. Hyunwoo has already agreed to be the wardrobe and makeup artist.”

Changkyun blinks up at his boyfriend who breaks into a shy grin, his eyes crinkling in the corners like they do when he’s particularly happy.

“But we’re pretty much out with our relationship now, hyung,” Changkyun blurts, worrying his lip. “You’ll be criticized for signing me.”

“I don’t really care about that,” the producer responds with unwavering finality. “I’ve listened to your recent tracks. You’re creating music that makes people _feel_ something—you’re _thriving_ , Changkyun.”

“Are you sure about this, hyung?” Changkyun whispers, afraid to hope too keenly and shatter the moment.

“You’ll have total creative control,” Hoseok begins to explain, highlighting the important points in the contract as he hands it to the rapper. “I want to mentor and support you as an artist, Changkyun-ah. I want to watch you soar.”

Changkyun blinks back a sudden wave of emotion and he feels like he’s floating on a cloud as his boyfriend and his friend crowd around him, watching as he signs the paperwork with his thumbprint. 

“Are we the only people signed with the company, hyung?” Changkyun asks as he begins to haul away some of the trash.

Hoseok smiles sheepishly. “I also texted a choreographer and a manager, but they haven’t responded yet.”

A couple hours later, Minhyuk and Jooheon bound into the room with bright smiles and an endless supply of stories that help the time pass more quickly. Then Hyungwon saunters in wearing sunglasses and sipping an iced americano, announcing, “The choreographer has arrived!”

Hoseok grins and throws some gloves at Hyungwon. “Great! Now take off those sunglasses and get to work.”

Elation begins to bubble inside Changkyun as the room starts to resemble a studio; the six friends work nonstop into the night, but he can’t help but feel that someone is missing.

Just as they’re packing up for the night and deciding on when to meet the next day, there is a timid knock on the door. Hoseok opens it and Kihyun walks in. “Are you still looking for a manager?”

They all gather around the table—the seven of them—and Changkyun feels a sense of peaceful inevitability wash through him: this is where he’s meant to be, with the people in this room. Hyunwoo’s palm rests on his lower back and Jooheon throws an arm around his shoulder. They’re all touching, all connected in some way, and as Changkyun exchanges glances with his friends—his adopted family—he breaks into a grin.

“Let’s get to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end!! I can't even begin to describe how it feels to successfully complete this story; Overflow is the longest fic I've ever written and it represents countless hours of work. Thank you so much to every single one of you for reading, supporting and loving this story. Every kudos, comment and bookmark encouraged me to keep writing, to strive for and smash my goals.
> 
> Until next time~
> 
> Love,  
> cupofgenmaicha


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